A New Age
by justtestingmyboundaries
Summary: Book 4, starting from the end of the Brisingr with a focus on ExA, rated mature for later chapters, there will be warning before the chapter with mature themes, and right before the actual scene as well.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter one: A light in the shadows

_It's been two days since Oromis and Glaedr passed away_, Eragon thought, _only two days and everyone seems to go back to their normal lives. Everyone but us, Saphira do they not understand what this war has cost, what this war continues to cost us._ _We have won, but for what, more suffering, more lost lives, more unnecessary killing. I've already lost my father, now; I have lost the only other man who was like a father to me. Is it worth it? _

_I don't know Eragon_, Saphira replied truthfully, _but the only choice we have, the only choice the people have is to press on. Only we know exactly how the war is costing, only we realize its burdens and we carry them, but Eragon, my rider, we have come too far to leave this war with good conscience. Either we win, or lose our lives fighting for victory. _

_If I don't continue training soon, our deaths may soon become a reality for the Varden and the people of Alageasia. I need to get stronger, we need to get stronger. In our current condition, we can take on soldiers of the Empire, but we can't even defeat a Shade on our own. We most definitely cannot beat Murtagh in a game of strength or even take on Galbatorix in a game of running. I am weak, and I don't know of ways to get stronger. _

_Eragon, perhaps the elves know of other ways to get stronger, surely they must have records of the Riders and how they acquired their strength or at least completed their training. _

_You're right Saphira, we should ask Arya if she knows anything. _

The mere mention of Arya sent shivers running down his spine. He, himself, couldn't believe that even after all this time, and all those rejections, he still was affected by her.

He just simply couldn't bring himself to stop feeling emotions, so he settled for keeping his emotions to himself and learn to live with the pangs of his heart.

Saphira knowingly growled. _You shouldn't feel so bad Eragon, there are many other women, human and elf, that would be honored to love and be loved by you. _

Eragon solemnly replied, _And no matter how hard I look, none of them can even compare to Arya. _He thought about how she held him after he revealed the news of Oromis' and Glaedr's passing, he remembered being at peace when she clung to him, and when she released him, he felt the weight of the world threaten to bring him to his knees. It was with these thoughts that the pair, Rider and Dragon, ended their flight in front of the elven camp in hopes of searching for some more answers.

Eragon quickly found Arya's tent, knocked, and waited for a reply.

None came.

He carefully opened the flap to see if Arya was resting, but to his dismay, he found no one. He looked around the elven camp some more, but unfortunately could not find where she had gone.

He saw Blodgarm on the other side and approached him.

"Blodgarm" Eragon continued with the formal elven greeting while the elf respectfully returned the gesture.

"To what do I owe the pleasure Shadeslayer?"

"Nothing that demands urgency, but I was wondering whether you had any knowledge of where Arya Drottningu could be? I have a great need to speak with her.

"Last I checked Shadeslayer, she had made her way down to Lady Nightstalker's tent to discuss an upcoming lead."

"Thank you Blodgarm"

Eragon opened his mind to Saphira, _Did you hear that, it hasn't been long since we just won the battle and now we are continuing to press on. I realize the Empire is weak, but we are also hurting, there is no possible way the Varden is ready to send more soldiers out on another mission, there is far too much work to be done here. _

_I agree little one, however, I do believe we can trust Arya and Nasuada's judgment on what to do with the Varden's situation currently. If they don't realize exactly how precarious the situation is, then they are far from being the leaders we know them to be. _

_I suppose you are right. _

_I am always right little one. _

He smiled at that, it was the one thing he could always count on Saphira to do for him. Make him smile when the entire world seemed to be turned against him.

_Not the entire world Eragon, you still have those who believe in you. _

_I am afraid that I am dangerously close to not believing in myself. _

Before Saphira could reply, Arya strode out of Nasuada's tent, and crashed into Eragon who was just walking in. They both fell to the ground, Eragon on top of Arya. Arya's hand was clutching the collar of the his tunic and Eragon's arm had snaked around her back and protected the back of her head to keep her from getting hurt as there were some considerably pointy rocks in the area.

"I'm sorry Arya svit-kona, I did not realize you were coming out." Eragon said a little breathlessly. He picked himself up and Arya who was still clutching his collar, but quickly let go when she was back on her feet.

She smiled a little and replied, "That's quite alright Eragon, it was mainly my fault for not seeing where I was going."

"There's no need to apologize."

_Eragon, _Saphira projected to Eragon and Arya, seeing no reason to private the conversation, _you are bleeding. I think your hand, where's Arya's head could have been, hit a rock. It looks quite deep from here. _

Eragon looked down at his right hand and saw a deep gash cut across it. _You're right, I must not have noticed because of all those calluses I put on my hands, I should probably undo those, since I have a Rider's sword. _

Eragon said the words to make his hands return to their normal shape and size and examined his handiwork. He was far too absorbed to in making sure his hands were normal again to think much of the fact he hadn't healed himself yet.

"You shouldn't keep that cut open for too long, it might get infected."

Eragon frowned at Arya and looked down at his hand, it was a pretty deep cut, but before he could say the words to heal it, Arya strode up, took his hand and muttered, "Waise heill."

"Thank you, Arya svit-kona."

"No, Eragon, I should be thanking you, for instead of the back of my head being cut by such a sharp rock, your hand was."

Eragon simply smiled and continued with the business at hand. "Arya, I need to talk to you."

She merely nodded and pointed to a pathway leading to the lake.

"What is on your mind, Shadeslayer?"

"Saphira and I were wondering if the elves have any other means to train a Rider considering Oromis is no longer with us."

"I am afraid I don't understand your question Shadeslayer, what exactly do you need?"

_Arya, we were thinking if there were any books or records of what older Riders did to further their training or gain more power. _

"You must understand, I am not asking the elves for more power for my own means, however, even you must admit that I am not strong enough in my current state. I am strong Arya, but not enough, I have a good chance against Murtagh if the king does not interfere, however, the king will always interfere, and there is no doubt that with all the eldunari the king has, I have no chance against him even if all the elves were to give me their power." Eragon stated truthfully.

"It was never my intention to seem like I was doubting your character Eragon, I know you and I know you would never look for more power because of your own means. It is the most admirable trait of yours, that you cannot be corrupted by your power. Most people, human or elf, are unable to keep away from that desire."

"Thank you for your kind words Arya svit-kona."

"It was merely a truthful observation from a close friend. As to yours and Saphira's previous question, I have heard that there are records of the Riders, however I have little knowledge of them other than the history. As a princess, I should have known the secrets Islanzadi has kept, however, my duties as an ambassador did not allow me to have the time to sit and listen to her teachings."

Eragon noticed that Arya said her mother's name with a certain bite reserved only for when she uttered it. Nevertheless, he let it go unnoticed.

"Since we are going to Ellesmera for Oromis's and Glaedr's funeral service, I assume you going as well." Eragon weakly nodded, and quickly looked away to hide his tears. Arya walked up to him, gently raised his chin and wiped his tears away, "It is quite alright Eragon, you do not have to be strong all the time."

"Yes I must Arya, Saphira and I cannot afford to break, especially now." Eragon replied with the strength and conviction returning to his voice.

Arya simply nodded and looked away from his simmering blue eyes, lest she be transfixed under his gaze. She continued, "Since we shall both be going, I suggest you talk with the Queen about your predicament for more information."

"Of course, when is the funeral service supposed to be held?"

"In a month."

"When were you planning on leaving?"

"In two weeks, but there is nothing important that holds me here. Why do you ask?"

"I need to leave early to arrange a proper Rider's funeral for my master."

"Ah, is there no one else to do it in your stead? The Varden needs you now more than ever for their morale."

"I am afraid that only another Rider can know of the protocol that goes into preparing a funeral for another Rider. And so, I am the only one who can perform the proper service for Oromis and Glaedr."

"I understand, when will you leave then?"

"Tomorrow morning, Arya, can you accompany us for the journey?"

Arya narrowed her eyes. Eragon quickly stated his reasons, "I need help finding the correct materials for the funeral, most of which must be found on the ground from here to Ellesmera, and if I am to ask to Queen to reveal secrets of the Riders that have stayed secrets then I do need all the help I can get."

_And, you are far more entertaining company than my Rider._ Saphira added.

Arya let out a small laugh and said, "Certainly, I shall be ready by tomorrow morning. It would be my pleasure to accompany you two to my home."

With that she left leaving Eragon gazing after her longingly.

Eragon turned to Saphira grudgingly and asked, "Is she really that much more entertaining than me?"

_No, but watching the two of you together is. _

_Saphira!_

_What, the only source of entertainment I have is provided by two legged creatures, it's not my fault. You are the only one I don't feel sorry harassing to get my entertainment. _

_I can give you that. _


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two: A second prophecy and a second source

Later that afternoon, Eragon decided he would pay some people a visit as he had a doubt that he would not see them for a long time. He walked to his cousin's tent and entered. Katrina was the first to greet him. "Eragon!" She ran up and hugged him. "It has been so long since we had seen you. Roran and I were just talking about you."

"Hmm, let me guess, he was telling extremely embarrassing stories and ending with 'It's a wonder how much he has grown up' am I right?"

"Always the smart-ass weren't you Eragon?" Eragon turned to look at his cousin and was immediately bear hugged by the bear of a man Roran had become after he joined the war. "You always let me be Roran" he replied laughingly. "I am leaving to perform the last rites for my master, he taught me much and he passed away. I came to say goodbye, I am leaving in the morning and I don't exactly know when I will be back. There are other things I must do before returning."

Roran nodded. "I am truly sorry for you loss Eragon. It is hard losing the ones you love. But it is much easier to find strength in the ones you love after losing someone."

"You have grown wiser Roran"

"I was always wise, you just never noticed." Eragon laughed, it surprised him how much he reconnected with his cousin after the consequences of the war.

_He loves you very much Eragon. You should do well to remember that. _

_I know Saphira, I love him and Katrina too, besides you they are the only family I would even consider having. _

_What of Arya?_

_She doesn't love me. _

_We have the unique privilege to choose our family Eragon, it is because we are alone that we can choose the ones we let into our hearts. Families do not have to bound by blood, they can be bound by love and caring too. We have a family Eragon, we have Brom, even if it is only his memory, we have Roran, Katrina, Arya, Nasuada, Orik, Angela, Solembum, Oromis, Glaedr, and most importantly Eragon, we have each other. And even if the entire world leaves us, or we leave the world, we will always have each other._

_Again, my great dragon, you are right. _

_Like I said little one, I am always right. _

_It's been a long time since we visited Angela hasn't it. I haven't seen her since my encounter with Elva. We should go pay her a visit. _

_Yes, Eragon we should. _

Eragon strode over to Angela's tent and politely knocked. It was literally two seconds before Angela opened the flap and pulled him in. "So you have finally remembered me Eragon."

"Forgive me, I had much on my mind of late."

"Hmm whatever, like I really care whether or not you come to visit me. I was hoping however that you would come and visit me before your trip tomorrow."

"How did you know about that?"

"News travels fast"

"How fast and among who?"

"Among the animals, there was a field mouse that Solembum caught with the most interesting of memories with details of your trip."

Eragon grunted, "I see, why did you want to see me anyway."

"I did not wish to see you, I had hoped you would come and visit. Solembum was the one who wished to see you. Apparently he has more interesting information to share with you."

Eragon looked at the werecat and opened his mind to his.

_What did you wish to see me about Solembum? _

_My words are for your ears only, after that you may tell whoever you wish with the utmost caution. This knowledge is dangerous, far more dangerous, exactly how dangerous you will know when you it matters most. _

_What is it Solembum? _

_You have a power far greater than any human, dwarf, elf, one that rivals only the strongest of dragons. What that is I cannot tell you for I do not know, but in order to find this power you must look for the one with the black rose stained in blood, the one with the shadows being lit by fire, and the one with the thousand. _

_What are you speaking of, where can I find this thing, what is it, how do you know this? _

_Peace, Shadeslayer, I myself do no know what I am speaking of, only the one who this is spoken for will know, I do not know where you can find or even what it is. As far as how I know this, that information I shall keep to myself. But you should take heed to my words, last time, they did work to your benefit as I can see from that sword hanging proudly from your belt. Remember Eragon, you are far more powerful that you know. But you must know to find that power. _

_Thank you Solembum, you have given me much to think about. _

_Do not waste time thinking about it, you have none, you need to act upon it. _

And with that and a swish of his tail, the puzzling werecat left Eragon in Angela's tent.

"Do you have any idea of what Solembum was telling me?"

"No, his words are his alone, his thoughts are his alone. I may, however, be able to point you in a right direction."

"Any help would be greatly appreciated."

Angela nodded her head and retrieved her dragon bones. With a cry of Manin! Wryda! Hugin! she released the bones.

"Ah, your future has changed some since the last I saw it."

Eragon looked at her quizzically. Angela simply smiled and continued. "You are blessed with immortality, however, whether or not you will be fully use your blessing is questionable. You have a pathway charged with lightening meaning your journey will give you power, but may lead to more destruction. You will be victorious as long as you remain incorruptible, but these series of sharp bones pointing downward means that you will have to overcome thousands of moral quandaries that you must succeed in to claim yourself morally incorruptible. The epic romance part has changed as well. You have won your love, but to be together, you must win in a battle against your enemies. She is still subborn, unwavering in her loyalty, confused, beautiful, and of noble birth."

Angela sighed as she ended her diagnosis of his future.

"What is it Angela, what are you not telling me?"

"I don't know if you should be plagued with the information you seek."

"What is it, I need to know, I need to be prepared."

"The bone in the corner is piercing a man and that man is bleeding, not dying, meaning that wherever your path takes you, you will undergo the worst pain ever to succeed in your journey. You will pay a terrible price for you journey."

"Will I lose someone close to me? Is the pain someone dying?" he asked choked in his own fear of losing someone else.

"No, no Eragon, your pain will not be the pain or torture of going through losing someone you love, the price you pay, the pain you will experience is for you alone, you will not die in your training, but the price you pay will threaten your sanity. I fear for you Eragon, there is no greater foe than the darkest parts of our own mind. You must find something to anchor yourself to. Something more to live for if you are to succeed in your mission."

Eragon stared at Angela, his face expressionless, blank, void of any emotion, for it was then, at hearing her words was Eragon able to comprehend the meaning behind Angela's prophecy. Eragon might become the most powerful man, but he would become the next Galbotorix, the next tyrant if he wasn't stronger than the evil in his own head. For once, Eragon truly feared himself.

He left the room and silently got on Saphira with Angela closing her eyes and praying for the young rider's safety.

Saphira was silent all the way back to the tent, she too knew what Angela had said and she also feared what would become of her beloved Rider. She was far too worried to voice her concerns in a comprehendible manner, so she opted to lay down and comfort Eragon by pulling him over to her belly and surrounding him with the warmth of her fire and love in his mind. Eragon fell into a fitful sleep plagued with images of deaths of his close ones with the last image of fighting a man wearing a blue helmet, defeating him, and pulling off the helmet only to reveal his own face, but much more ruthless, cold, and brutal, looking back at him.


	3. Chapters 3 8

Chapter three: A journey worth taking

Eragon was glad to wake up, glad to leave his world of personal horrors. He quickly packed his bag, the sun had not even begun to rise, so he had ample amount of time to pack for the long journey. He quietly placed his packed bag on his bed as not to wake Saphira and left the tent to take a walk. He walked and walked, and soon he started to jog, and then sprint as fast as he could to the highest cliff he could see. He had tears running down his cheeks and his mind was disorientated so much that he couldn't hear the footsteps of his loved one following him closely. He stopped mere feet from the edge, fell on his knees, and let the unshed tears fall from his face like a cascade. He turned around to find a very worried Arya looking at him. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't to stop the tears from coming, and neither could he look away from her worried expression.

Arya had never seen Eragon look so broken before, so vulnerable, and it was breaking her heart to see her beloved Rider and closest friend so tortured. She had fallen in love with him since the elven celebration, on her journey back she realized how much she needed his company and how much peace he provided her with. But she didn't dare tell Eragon the extent of her feelings, else they would both have to answer to her mother and if Eragon wasn't in the favor of the Queen, he may never succeed in his attempt to beat the king. But all voice of reason did not stop Arya from feeling like she failed Eragon, that she failed the friend she cared for the most, that she failed the man she loved the most because here Eragon was, tortured and weak, a victim of his own mind. Determined to help him, she walked over to Eragon and locked her arms around his waist and laid her head against his frantically beating heart.

She gently prodded his mind and lovingly asked, _Eragon, what is wrong? Why are you like this? What has happened?_

She received no answer, and no movement from Eragon as she clung to him in an effort to get through. _Do you not trust me enough to know that I am always here for you? _

Eragon slowly lowered his gaze to look at her emerald eyes, closed his eyes and let the unshed tears travel from his cheeks to his neck and down his broad chest, and with a speed impossible to mimic, he brought his arms, two muscular, unbreakable bands, tight around her waist as he buried his head in the crook of her neck.

_What happened Eragon? _she gently asked again.

He sent a flood of memories her way, Solembum's second piece of advise, Angela's fortune telling, his dismal future, his fear of turning evil, and lastly his dream of uncovering his own face as one so feared and hated.

Arya gasped at the extent of his pain he was feeling. His fear of his own corruption was so great it nearly choked her. She could barely retain her composure without tearing up herself. She wondered how long Eragon was containing these emotions and she realized, the entire day. The entire day, Eragon was feeling this much pain, this much fear at his own fate, and he had no one to share it with. It was no wonder he had broken, she wouldn't have been able to last as long as he did if she had similar terrorizing feelings. She could feel his body shaking under her fingers, he had stopped crying a long time ago, he was shivering at his own power, at his knowledge that he can grow up to a tyrant more ruthless, more brutal than Galbatorix could ever imagine to be. She knew the base of his fears and she slowly pulled Eragon up, so he would look straight in her eyes, but still be able to hold her in his strong arms.

_Your fears are baseless Eragon, the man you are, the Rider you have become has an impeccable morality. You will not become the next tyrant, you are not capable of it. No matter how much pain you go through, you have never thought of gaining power for revenge, only to protect those you love and those who love you. You are not a tyrant, you are not a monster, and I have utmost belief that you will never become one. You are strong, you kill when you need to, you kill to fight for a greater good, not in the name of revenge. You are a good person Eragon, and you have a good heart. _

_What if that is not enough Arya, what if I can turn into the most powerful monster, and there will be no one to stop me? _

_You are already one of the most powerful people to have walked Alagaesia, and you have not been corrupted yet. What makes you think that more power can corrupt you? _

_Because the power I have gained did not require me to put my sanity on the line. _

_And what could possibly take your sanity away? _

_The images in my dreams, the ones of you and Saphira being killed, are enough to turn me insane. _

_Why only us two Eragon? Surely you have seen others killed before. _

_You and Saphira live in a place so deep in my heart where only you can do me any harm._ He admitted softly.

Arya froze under his confession and after the longest time of gazing into his bright blue eyes, she pulled one of her hands back, cupped the side of Eragon's face and kissed his cheek, before returning her arm to his back and her head on his calmed heart.

She remained in his arms until the sun had risen slightly. "We should start soon" Eragon stated. Arya pulled away and merely nodded. She started to walk back, but Eragon caught her arm gently and walked in front of her. He waited till her eyes met with his and simply stated, "Thank you Arya svit-kona. You have once again brought me back from the dark recesses of my own mind. Thank you for coming after me and for staying with me."

"Do not think twice about it Shadeslayer. I would have done it again, as you would have done the same for me. We are friends, and friends need not keep a tally of all the favors one does for the other." With this and a small smile, she took his hand and started to walk towards the camp before letting go and sprinting, expecting him to sprint after her. Eragon smiled and willingly took off behind, they reached their tents within minutes. Arya left to get her bag and Eragon saddled Saphira and attached his bag. Arya came with ten minutes and she attached her bag to another attachment.

_Arya? _

_Yes Saphira? _

_Thank you for helping Eragon, I am ashamed of being unable to, but I could not help but think that I was in as much of danger of becoming evil as Eragon thought he could turn._

_That's quite okay Saphira, but I highly doubt you could turn evil. _

_No, it is more possible that you think. If I was to lose Eragon or you, I would not stop the killing rage in me, just Eragon would not be able to stop the brutality arising from his grief if he were to lose either you or me. That is the simple truth. _

Arya was shocked and honored at Saphira's openness and revealing her feelings toward herself. She looked over at the incredibly handsome Rider sitting in Saphira's saddle and quickly made her way up to Saphira's side to get on.

Eragon held out a hand to her, but did not think she would actually take. So when she gripped it tightly and jumped on the saddle, he was taken aback with surprise. However, he quickly replaced the surprise with a smile at the beautiful elf behind him and was greeted with another smile and her arms circling his waist to keep from falling off.

_Are you ready Arya? _

_Yes Eragon. _

_Saphira? _

_Yes Eragon? _

_Fly!!_

_My pleasure_

With a strong beat of her wings she was airborne and soon they became distant birds to all who looked at them. Eragon could tell that Arya was tired from being up all night comforting him so he suggested, _Arya, you should take some rest, you were up all night for me, and I won't be able to get any rest with those nightmares fresh in my head. _

She yawned and realizing the truth at his words replied_ I would love to get some rest, but I do not think I am in the best position for sleeping at this moment. _

Eragon completely understood what she was saying and merely replied _Hang on, give me a second. _

Arya remained still, but curious as to what her beloved Eragon was going to do. She was alarmed when she saw Eragon stand up with perfect balance on a flying Saphira with his straps undone, and jump down from his stance to Saphira's side before catching part of the saddle and swinging his body behind her. She became livid with fury. _You couldn't have landed somewhere and just switched seats so I could sleep! Or better yet just tie my hands around your waist so you wouldn't have to attempt something so reckless! What if you had fallen off?! Then what would the Varden have done? What would I have done? Barzul! Eragon, you cannot do tricks like that! What if something happened to you?_

Eragon just stared at her with an amused expression on his face, then he unstrapped Arya's from the saddle and lifted her so she was in his original spot before leaning to the side and redoing Arya's and his straps. Then he replied gently_, Arya, there is no need to worry, it is normal that I am comfortable in all sorts of positions while Saphira is flying. These tricks are sometimes difficult, but we were taught how to properly execute each, they are quite useful in a battle for an element of surprise or trying to reach a window or jumping from the tail to attack the enemy. I am quite comfortable standing, crouching, and even performing the first level of Rimgar while Saphira is flying. And the answer to what would have happened if I had fallen, Saphira would have caught me. There is no need to worry yourself for something so trivial. _

_Forgive me Eragon, I did not know, I thought…I don't what I thought, I was just scared that something would happen to you. _

_Do not worry Arya svit-kona, the first time I attempted something like that I did fall, and Saphira wasn't even there to catch me, Glaedr-elda just flew under and caught me. He said it was normal for Riders to fall for the first time. And when I asked him why, he simply replied because the young ones always think they can do everything right away that they misjudge how much strength required to swing themselves on the other side. I basically used so much strength that I swung myself completely off of Saphira. Oromis did laugh a little at me. _

_A little, little one. _

_Fine, he laughed a lot at me, but I got it the second time. _

Arya laughed at his story, before she became surprised at how Eragon easily turned her anger into happiness in a matter of seconds. She smiled faintly at the knowledge and let herself be embraced tightly by Eragon's arms. She immediately felt safe and loved in his arms. She felt that no matter how bad her life was going to get, she would always be able to succeed. She never felt like this before. She thought she loved Faolin, but she always felt like she was doing something wrong, like she was in danger because she was with Faolin. She had more to fear from being in Eragon's arms than in Faolin's, but with Eragon, she felt safe, something she had not felt since the day her father died. She sighed at the knowledge only to have Eragon look down at her, smile, and pull her body closer against his chest so she could have a pillow in the man she loved when she fell asleep.

Eragon stared at the sleeping goddess in his arms, and that familiar pain and anguish soon made itself apparent, but a new emotion, peace, settled his increasing anxiety. He knew that a time would come when Arya will turn cold towards him because she would fear their melting distance, he knew that a time would come when that pain from not being able to love her would take over his body again, but for now, he was content with holding his love, his hope in his arms. He checked to see if she was sleeping and when he discovered that she was, he kissed the top of her head and hoped she wouldn't wake up. She didn't. So he smiled down at her and engaged in a conversation with Saphira about the meaning of the Solembum's words and how to approach finding that creature or object. 

Chapter four: The unsolvable riddle.

_You know_, Saphira observed, _you are not very good at deciphering messages. I do believe we have been at Solembum's new advice for a good three hours, and we even know the last one was very literal. _

_What are you implying Saphira_, thought Eragon through their mental link.

_Nothing, just that you have never been good at truly understanding words with all their deceptions and clues. _

_Try me. _

_Fine here's a riddle:_

_I am unwavering, I am made imperfect, I am perfect._

_I have a steady rate, yet I change the scenery._

_I can heal any wound, but I will not give life. _

_No one escapes me, no one conquers me, I am all encompassing, I am unseen, yet ubiquitous. _

_I bring down mountains, dry up oceans, kill all things that was born, I destroy all that was created. What am I?_

Eragon thought about the riddle and smiled when he came upon an answer. _Saphira, I think have it. _

_Well, what do you believe the answer is? _

_Time. The answer is time. _

Saphira snorted, _Well maybe you are not so hopeless after all. But I still think we should be able to better decipher what Solembum's words mean. _

_Perhaps Islanzadi can help us or at least provide us with more information, and then we can search for the answers. But for now, I think we should rest, we have been flying well over five hours, you need a break and we need to eat. _

_I'll look for a good spot to land. _

_Thank you Saphira. _

They slowly descended in a small concealed, but spacious patch surrounded by a river and a dense forest on the other side. Not wanting to wake Arya, he slowly undid her buckles, spread her bed for her and laid her down so she could continue to rest while he searched for the necessary ingredients for his vegetable stew. He found a dead tree chopped up a part big enough for three bowls and carved them out with magic. He then protected the wood from being lit on fire with more magic and then filled one the water, built a fire and began slicing the vegetables he had carefully gathered.

Arya slowly raised herself from her slumber, but became quickly alarmed at her surroundings and her position. The last she remembered she was flying on Saphira, not laying down in a bed. She got up and quickly located Eragon who was busy cutting vegetables. She stood up, trying to be as quiet as possible, but she snapped a twig.

Eragon spun around, hand on his hilt ready to spring into action. When he saw Arya, he smiled, "Sorry I did not mean to wake you up, I was going to after the food was ready. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you Shadeslayer, I did not realize that I had fallen asleep for so long. Forgive me."

"Don't mention it, you were tired, we all deserve some rest once in a while."

"Saphira is out hunting, she will be back in some time. In the meanwhile, would you like to eat something?"

Arya had not realized how hungry she had been until Eragon mentioned food. She nodded and Eragon poured some of his stew that he became so good at cooking into a large bowl for her to eat. When she took a bite, he looked at her expectantly. Not understanding what he wanted she asked, "What?"

"Well, how is it? This is the first time you ate something that I made, how is it?"

Arya thought back, and realized what he said was right, this was, in fact, the first time she had ever tried his cooking and she had to admit it was quite good. But wanting to tease him a bit she replied, "Oh this is really good Eragon, you have outdone yourself, however, I do believe it is normally the women who should good cooks. I do not think that your cooking abilities are something to be proud of as they are in fact, somewhat feminine in nature." She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at Eragon's expression. He was staring at her with one eyebrow raised and lips pursed as if trying hard to convince himself not to attack her. Instead he just turned around and muttered something under his breath.

Eragon had known Arya was teasing him, but lest she be unaware of the rather large amount of water hanging above her head, he turned around and muttered the words on the ancient language to drop the huge puddle on top of her beautiful midnight black hair. He was greeted with a yelp and the empty bowl on the back of his head. He turned around to see an extremely wet Arya with a wide smile that threatened to turn to a laugh if she did not contain herself. To Eragon's delight, she didn't, Arya started laughing and Eragon swore he could see heaven looking at Arya with laughter in her eyes. He soon joined in her laughter only to be interrupted by Saphira who muttered _Eragon, what did you do? _

_She insulted my cooking. _

Arya replied_ I did no such thing, I complimented his cooking. _

_Fine she complimented my cooking and then called me feminine as cooking well is a feminine trait. _

_Eragon, as much as I love you, you have to admit that cooking is a rather womanly thing to know how to do. I agree with Arya. _

_Fine, have it your way, Eragon Shadeslayer is a man of feminine qualities, probably what I get for having a female dragon, a female best friend, and a female liegelord. I don't even have a male around, well, not anymore_ his attitude quickly changed after remembering the bond he and Murtagh shared.

He laughed off his thought and said, "you know what that means Arya svit-kona?"

"What Eragon? What in the world could that mean?" her voice full of laughter again.

"It means that I need to ask Blodgarm to accompany me on the Saphira next time, I need some male help among you females."

_Eragon, as if I would even consider having two males on my back, after you and Roran, I wouldn't even consider it, plus having another female is advantageous for me. _

"Guess I have no choice." Eragon grumbled.

_You never did little one. _

The three continued their friendly jargon and then Eragon walked over to his pack and pulled out a towel for Arya to dry off her thick black hair. She placed the towel back in his pack and dried her hair with magic. Eragon mouthed, Oh. She just laughed at him again. _Just to hear her laugh, I would go through the most embarrassing situations._ Eragon looked away from her beautiful face, as if on cue Saphira interrupted his aching heart.

_Little one, Arya, we should get going again, I would like to fly some more while so we don't have much distance to cover tomorrow and we can leisurely gather the materials we need for Oromis-elda and Glaedr-elda's funeral. _

Eragon and Arya quickly agreed, gathered their things, and climbed in Saphira again. Arya resumed her normal seat behind Eragon and put her arms around his waist again.

"Eragon, if you need to sleep, then you can always lean back. I am quite well rested now."

"Thank you for your offer, if I get tired, I will let you know before I fall asleep. But the sleep I got last night should be enough, even how disturbed it was, it was longer than how I normally sleep."

"But you barely slept for four hours. What do you mean that's longer than how long you normally sleep for?"

_He barely sleeps nowadays Arya, he is too afraid that his nightmares will torture him more, most of the time he sleeps for two hours before lying in his bed awake staring up at the ceiling trying to keep whatever horrors he dreamt about in the darkest recesses of his mind. _

"Is it true? Is what Saphira said true?"

"Yes, so what of it?" Eragon said, trying to sound casual. "I get nightmares, and I don't like having them so I take measures into my own hands to keep myself away more experiences like that."

"And how long has this been going on?"

"Not too long." he looked away as he replied.

_He lies Arya, he has been compromising his sleep ever since the battle against Murtagh, when that wretched man told him what he believed of Eragon's parentage, but it has been getting worse lately._

"I'm quite alright Arya, Saphira is just exaggerating the situation. Everyone gets nightmares, especially those like us."

Arya asked in the Ancient Language referring to what Saphira said, "Er thronessa du ilumë" _Is this the truth?_

To this, Eragon replied with his head facing the other direction and his eyes fervently searching for nothing of importance on the ground, "Neo du ilumë" _Not the truth_

"I am truly sorry Eragon, I did not know that your nightmares had affected your rest this much. Why did you not say anything? I am sure that if you had explained the situation, you would have been able to sleep more."

"It was never a question on whether or not I can sleep more, I had ample time to sleep, I just did not as I did not want to see the deaths of those close to me over and over again. I have trouble when I wake up determining which are just dreams and which are…memories."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"I'm afraid not Arya svit-kona, this is one battle I must fight alone."

Arya nodded and the two fell into a comfortable silence. Eragon's answer did not satisfy Arya, she knew there must be something that could let Eragon sleep peacefully, but the answer remained a riddle to her.

Chapter five: Preparations

Saphira was unusually quiet the entire time, she was deep in her thoughts and Eragon couldn't help but feel the magnitude of her emotion – sorrow.

_We still have Glaedr-elda, Saphira, he may not be talkative right now, or even in the future, but we still have his wisdom, we still have him. _

_It's not the same Eragon, we have no teacher. We just have methods, at best, to be able to beat the King, but no teacher. I still can't believe Oromis-elda is gone. I don't want to believe that he is gone._

_I know Saphira, everytime I think of Oromis-elda, I can't help the tears in my eyes, or the sickening pit in my stomach. I don't what to do but give them the funeral they deserve, the funeral of the great Rider and great Dragon they were. _

_Have you any ideas as to what we will do to honor them? _

_Besides the protocol that we know of, I am thinking of painting them. And I need the plants and things to create the colors I need. _

_What about you? _

_I have an idea, but when the time comes, I don't know whether I will be able to do it. _

_When the time comes, Saphira, you will be able to, you always have been able to. _

_Thank you little one._

Dragon and Rider, locked deep in each other's mind, became content just to be with the other. However, Saphira soon became bored of her thoughts and she wanted her entertainment from her two – legged participants.

_Anyone know any good riddles? _

_Oh god Saphira, not these again, _thought Eragon.

Arya piped in, _Last time we tried figuring out riddles, we all got a headache. _

_Cowards. _

_Fine, Saphira give us a riddle. _Eragon quickly regretted his decision when Arya glared at him. She obviously wasn't too thrilled about stimulating her brain to the point of pain. Eragon smiled apologetically, but Arya returned his smile with the same look of anger but with a raised eyebrow.

And so Saphira gave a riddle, Eragon solved it, then another one, then Arya solved one and then another, and soon the sun went down and the three landed in a safe spot with a throbbing head. Neither Eragon nor Arya were hungry, so they opted just to sleep that night. They both laid down next to Saphira giving each other the maximum distance possible between them.

Arya soon fell asleep, but Eragon lay awake for an hour or so to muster up the courage to close his weary eyes. Soon he too succumbed to his tiredness, but as soon as he close his eyes, his dreams started. He saw his uncle Garrow being burned alive when the Razac attacked, he saw his father step in front of the knife for him, he saw Murtagh being tortured by Galbatorix, Roran's death, Katrina's suicide because of it. He saw Arya being cut to pieces by a Shade. He saw Oromis's and Glaedr fall, and Saphira's neck pierced by the jaws of Shruikan. He woke with a jolt, unsure of what was true. He relaxed when he saw Saphira's breathing body next to him and Arya in her trance like sleep, also breathing. He looked in mind and discovered that Roran and Katrina were alive and well when he last saw them, but he had no knowledge whether or not Murtagh was being tortured by Galbatorix, but he speculated that it was true. Murtagh never liked the King, that he was sure of.

Not being able to fall asleep again, he went about preparing breakfast. He found his favorite fruits, peach and strawberries, and mashed them to create a jam like substance. He then went about finding vegetables to steam and he took out some bread from his pack. He ate his share, and made Arya's share for her, then snuck under Saphira's wing to place the food by a sleeping Arya. He went to the nearest water source, took his tunic off and stepped in the water to practice the Rimgar. He moved easily through the first two. He had tons of practice with Oromis, and the movements and positions were difficult to execute, but with his back healed by the elves, he mastered the first two dances. He braced himself and cleared his mind for the third one. He completed the third level many times, but it was often shaky, not as fluid as the others. He had to put his entire concentration to optimizing each position with perfect balance while retaining his strength to continue the level. With a sigh and a rising feeling of determination, he moved into the third level.

Arya had woken shortly after Eragon had left, but she was not aware at the time. She turned over to see if Eragon was still laying beside her and was startled to see that he was gone. Remembering his heartbreaking confession that he is overwhelmed by his dreams, Arya chided herself for not knowing why he was not there. She was, however, surprised to see the plate of food awaiting her a few feet from her own sleeping self. She smiled, took the plate of food, and came out of Saphira's wing to greet the warmth of the sun. To her dismay, Eragon was nowhere to be found, but judging from the hotness of her steamed vegetables, he could not have left too long ago, so after eating her breakfast, she went looking for her love.

She only had to look for the nearest stream for her eyes to locate the fluid body of her beloved Rider. Arya saw that Eragon was practicing the Rimgar, but she was far too interested in his bare chest to notice much of anything else. He was not a particularly huge man, but far larger and far heavier built than any elf she had ever seen. He stood a good five inches above her, and he had not an ounce of fat on his body. Unlike the elves, he had hair on his body, but it was a light blonde, not as thick as most human men, and barely visible in the sunlight or against his slightly tanned skin. He was well toned and perfectly proportioned. He moved through the first two levels of the Rimgar with a grace and fluidity that seemed to elude even the most graceful of elves. He was even able to perfectly execute the first two levels, which surprised Arya because even though most elves could perfectly perform those levels, they could not move through it with his speed or efficiency. On the other hand, most humans could never have even hoped to move as Eragon did now.

She thought he was finished with the poses when he stopped and looked out in the forest in front of him, but then he started to move again into the third level. She was not aware that Oromis had even taught Eragon the third level, and taught him well enough to be able to practice it on his own. She stood in awe as Eragon moved through the highly difficult poses of the third level with much more ease than elves who had hundreds of years of practice. He was precise and distinctive in every movement, but he moved slower through the third one than the first two, but he still moved faster than any other elf she had ever seen, including herself. She stood in awe as she watched Eragon complete the third level and smile as a look of triumph filled his face at the ending of the level. He came out of the water, sweat moving down his beautiful body, dried his pants, and put his tunic back on. His hair was still damp with the sweat from his head making him look even more attractive than he already was, and to her dismay and delight, he made no move to dry his hair. He picked up two water skins, hers and his, checked the water in a little pond created by the stream and a natural barrier to see if it was contaminated, and when he was satisfied that it wasn't, he quickly filled both to the brim, before closing the tops, and making his way back towards camp, and towards Arya.

Eragon saw Arya come out of the woods, he had no idea she was watching him practice the Rimgar the entire time. He smiled at her, she smiled back, and he wordlessly handed Arya her water skin before they both headed back to Saphira in an easy silence. Arya was dressed in her usual black leather that Eragon found so appealing. He snuck a few glances at her beautiful long black hair and he let the familiar pangs of his heart take over for just a second before returning his gaze back to the path and returning that stoic mask across his face. He loved her as much as he loved Saphira, but he knew that she did not return his feelings. He wished he could make Arya understand the depth of his feelings, but if topic was brought up again, she would become even more distant, and he couldn't survive if that were to happen again. He would rather be her friend than nothing at all.

Saphira rose from her slumber and Eragon walked over to her and scratched her behind her ear where she loved it the most. She nuzzled his hand and then the top of his head before standing up on all fours and stretching her wings.

Arya was watching them from the corner of her eye, but to keep from being noticed she moved around the camp to seem like she was cleaning up the campsite to cover their trail.

Not wanting to disturb Arya, Eragon silently moved away from the campsite to look for different flowers to create the paint he needed for Oromis's and Glaedr's funeral. He was stopped when Arya asked him with concern etched on her face, "Where are you going?"

"I am just going around to pick up some materials that I need for the funeral. It takes some time to prepare the necessary materials, and I want to be sure I have as much time as possible to get them in the perfect time."

"Do you require any assistance in locating these materials?"

"No," Eragon replied pleasantly, "I saw them on the way to the river a little while ago, I'll just be a couple of minutes. Do not worry yourself, I shall return well before the sun is fully risen this morning."

He watched Arya nod, and when that pain in his heart threatened to rise again, he abruptly turned and walked away.

Arya was watching his face for any signs of change, but when she realized he was watching her, her entire body seemed to tense. She hoped, for both their sakes, that Eragon was unaware of her blatant reaction to him. She relaxed when he left and she made her way over to Saphira's watchful eyes. _Did Eragon have more of his nightmares?_

_Of course he did Arya, he always has nightmares. But to his credit, he has not woken up screaming as often as before. _

_Do you think it's because they have lessened at all? _Arya asked hopefully.

Saphira snorted, _No, he is not so lucky, it's because he has gotten more used to the images that torture his head. _

Arya's eyes teared up at the mention of Eragon suffering even more than he already was. Her nightmares had lessened to the point of being nonexistent because of Eragon's company. His presence had unknowingly healed her mind, and she fell in love with him for it. Knowing that he loved her too had taken all her nightmares away, but she still refused because she knew what could happen had she told him her true feelings. But she couldn't understand why this knowledge that had given her peace before know grew into a pit in her stomach. And then it hit her, she was healed because of Eragon's love for her, but he didn't know that she loved him too. Knowing Eragon loved her made her happy beyond belief, but he didn't have that luxury of knowing that she loved him. She looked away guiltily, she had a way to end his tortures, but she could never act upon them. And he would hate her if he found out what she kept from him.

True to his word, Eragon returned quickly to camp with a bag of colored flowers. He carefully placed them in his pack before getting on Saphira and tying his legs down to the saddle. He saw Arya leaning against Saphira's side, and so he was careful not to hurt her, but she soon followed suit, and Eragon did her straps as well when she sat down in her usual comfortable position. Eragon felt the familiar hands encircle his waist and without a wasted second, Saphira took off. They carried a light conversation, poking fun at whomever, talking about unimportant things, all the while Eragon's thoughts were centered on the beautiful elf behind him, and Arya's on how badly she was torturing the man she loved so much. They did not stop until they reached Ellesmera later than afternoon. They landed close to Tialdari Hall and Eragon and Arya were approached by the regal queen of elves.

Islanzadi stood before Eragon and he proceeded to start the formal elven greeting of respect. She smiled and completed the greeting before greeting Saphira and finally embracing her daughter in a short and to Eragon, rather awkward hug.

"Shadeslayer, I trust your trip here went well."

"Yes your majesty, we had no trouble in the way here."

"Then I am sure you would like to get some food and rest."

"Actually your majesty, I am not really too tired-" he gave Arya a knowing look to which she fell sad at hearing but gave a sympathetic smile, "but I do have some important matter to discuss with you."

"Very well Shadeslayer, I shall see you later tonight as I have some rather mundane but important council meeting to attend. Perhaps you would like to join Arya and I for dinner tonight to discuss this matter."

"It would be my honor majesty, thank you for your time."

"I will send a messenger to tell when dinner is ready. As for now, your usual treehouse is ready, along with some food. I believe Oromis left something for you in his hut. Because you are not so travel weary, you might want to see what exactly he left for as I do not know myself."

"Thank you, my Queen, I shall be off now."

Islanzadi merely nodded and gave a smile that did not even attempt to reach her eyes. Eragon bowed to her and then to Arya, and gave her a weak smile before swiftly returning to Saphira's saddle and flying to his tree house.

Arya watched as Eragon spoke with his mother, she never took her eyes of his eyes. They seemed changed, much more older, much more experienced. They were eyes that saw too much and remembered too much. At the mention of his master's name, his eyes became filled with a new overbearing emotion – anguish. She couldn't bear to look at his eyes and longer, and when he turned to bow at her, she didn't even have time to smile reassuringly back before he abruptly left her standing there, staring after him. She looked to the skies to see Saphira's majestic flight off in the direction of his treehouse. She let out her breath, and turned to her mother. Arya gave the queen the same smile Islanzadi gave Eragon before gracefully turning to go up to her favorite place in Ellesmera – her gardens.

Chapter six: Deciphering the clues

Eragon located the treehouse and jumped from Saphira's saddle before landing gracefully in the middle of his living room. He loved his treehouse, it was small, neat, secluded, and located in his favorite part of Ellesmera. It gave a great view of Arya's home, and the large expanse of beautiful land that separated the house from hers. It was also large enough to accommodate Saphira and located conveniently next to a particularly large and secluded part of the river that ran next to the capital of Du Weldonvarden. He walked over to his kitchen table to see plate of hot food and a bottle of faelnirv waiting for him. But before he had a chance to dig in, he heard a bang on the door and an unfamiliar voice call out, "Shadeslayer?"

Eragon slowly walked over to the door to reveal an unsure elf standing before him. He looked down at him and asked, "Yes, what can I do for you?"

"I beg your pardon for interrupting you Shadeslayer, I just wanted to introduce myself. I am Dali, I will be taking care of you during your stay here. If there is anything you need, I will get it for you. You can reach me by tapping that crest three times and I will appear in the mirror and we can communicate using that means."

"Thank you very much Dali, I will ask if I need anything, but I do not want to you to be troubled too much. I will take care of maintaining the house I stay in," Eragon said with a smile, "but if there is anything else, then I will not hesitate to call you."

"As you wish Shadeslayer. I hope you enjoy your stay here."

With that Dali left him alone to finish his meal which he did quickly. He saved the bottle of faelnirv for later, he did not want to be intoxicated when he went to visit his master's place. Saphira, tired from the long flight, opted to sleep in her extraordinary large dragon sized bed, so Eragon traveled alone to his master's hut. He could find nothing out of the ordinary that signaled that Oromis had left for him, so he settled himself down in his usual chair before closing his eyes and basking in the enormity of being in this place again. He opened his eyes and saw that a book was slightly out of the bookshelf as if Oromis-elda did not have time to properly push it back in its original place. He pulled the book out and watched as a sealed envelope fell from the book. He picked in up and saw it was addressed Eragon – finarel, in the unmistakable handwriting of his master. He opened the letter and read,

"Dearest Eragon,

If you are reading this, it means I am gone, and you are observant enough to notice that the book was slightly misplaced. But you should know that I did not expect any less of you. You are far more adept than you know. I have kept the knowledge of exactly how powerful you truly are in fear of not completing your training. Most riders take ten to fifteen years to complete what you have done in less than a year and a half. You are by far the most powerful student I have ever trained, including your father. I ask your forgiveness for letting you think that Morzan was your father, but I had no choice, it is only your fear of turning evil that kept you from basking in your power and becoming the next evil tyrant. I once said that your hands are those of power, but are also capable of greatest evils in the world. I am sorry if I frightened you, but the truth is that I was afraid of you as well. Within you Eragon, is a power that has lain dormant for years, one that I have told you about, but failed to elaborate on. If this letter falls into the wrong hands, then that information might cost you your life, so I ask that your forgiveness at not being able to tell you what the source of that power is. But I will tell you that it is something we discussed before you left for Surda for the first time. Eragon – finarel, as your power grows and grows, your desire to use that power will as well, that is not the problem, the problem occurs when you manipulate situations for your own benefit. Galbatorix went mad at the loss of his dragon, I want you to promise me that even if something should threaten your sanity that you will always remember what is right and wrong. It is your knowledge of right and wrong that will prevent you from reveling in carnage. Eragon, you should know that I have never been prouder of any other student. I truly consider you the son I have never had. I am proud of Eragon, never doubt that, and also know that I have always had the utmost confidence in you. You will succeed Eragon, you have been raised to know no other way.

Love,

Oromis-elda

Eragon close his eyes and let the salty water accumulated in his eyes fall down his cheek much like a waterfall does to the land beneath it. He placed the book back on the shelf and put the letter back into the envelope. He secured the area so no curious elves would wander in the premises unknowing or knowingly. He sat in front of the hut and watched the stream flow. For once, in a long time, he felt like he had the strength to win, the courage to face his worst nightmares. He stood up with a newfound purpose to his life and confidently walked back to his tree house.

Within an hour of reaching his house, he heard a knock on his door, he opened it and another unfamiliar elf stood before him. He simply said, "Shadeslayer, " he bowed, "I bring a message from Her Highness the Queen."

"What is it?"

"She says that dinner will be ready in an hour, and she asked to know whether or not Saphira will eat this evening as it has come to her attention that the Great Dragon had eaten previously this day."

"Thank you for your message, I do not, however, know if Saphira will be interested in eating tonight. You should probably ask her yourself."

"As you wish Shadeslayer."

Saphira raised her eyes at young elven man and lifter her head to look at him directly in the eyes.

"Saphira Bjartskular, the Queen wished to know if you would like to eat this night as it has come to her attention that you have already eaten."

_I am glad you asked, I was beginning to worry as to whether or not I should make myself present tonight. The answer is no, I will not eat again. And I need my rest, please thank the Queen for her consideration. _

"As you wish O Great Dragon." The elf bowed to Saphira and then to Eragon and left running to tell the Queen their reply.

_Did you find what Oromis -elda left you?_

_Yes, I did actually, it was a letter. _

_What did it say?_

Eragon sent her his memories of reading the letter so she could read it too. Saphira smiled and said, _Finally, little one, finally I feel like we can succeed. Do you not feel the same? _

_Yes, I feel the exact same way you do. _Eragon walked up to Saphira and scratched her ear before kissing her forehead. She nuzzled the top of his head before saying, _You should probably get dressed well for your dinner tonight. Not that the entire affair is too formal, but you should be well dressed if you are to ask the Queen to reveal her secrets of the elves knowledge of Riders and their power. _

_Yea, you are right, I feel extremely nervous, I mean I can't just ask to tell me her secrets of how Riders gain more power. I hope I do not offend her by asking. But then again, this is far too important to ignore. On the other hand, the two things, Islanzadi's knowledge of the Riders and Solembum's and Oromis-elda's clues could be unrelated. In any case, any information should help us find the answers._

_Thought about what you should wear? Have any idea?_

Eragon looked at his dragon sheepishly before replying, _Nope._

He took a hot bath and then searched his wardrobe for something appropriate and selected a long, shiny blue tunic that open slightly at this chest and was loose enough for him to move comfortably, but tight enough to show convincing evidence of his developed body and muscular arms. He opted for white pants that elves often wear for relaxing. But in order to maintain his status as a warrior, he attached Brisingr, his blue Rider's blade, to his side. He slightly dampened his unkempt hair so it would be more manageable. It clamped together in some places and Eragon ran his hands through so it would stay in place or at least look slightly decent. He had showered before, but the water did not stay for long. He wanted to have a fresh look, not the tiredness that had been plaguing him for the past ten months. He lowered his eyes, composed himself, and opened the door to walk out.

He did not expect that he would run into Arya who, at that exact moment, raised her hand to knock, would be there, and he, looking down at the floor had no idea that she was right in front of him. He crashed right into her. They rolled down the stairs of the treehouse, with Arya clutching the collar of tunic with both her hands, and Eragon making sure Arya's head and body were protected by ensuring his arms were taking the blunt of the fall. As they came to a stop, Eragon looked at her, before profusely apologizing.

"Forgive me Arya svit-kona, I seem to have run into to again, and I do believe it was my fault this time."

She blushed slightly and smiled at him, "At least we're even Eragon-vor." She laughed. Eragon could have stayed for hours listening to her laughter before Saphira yelled at him through their mental link, _Eragon! Get off of her!_

He was confused before realizing that he was on top of her, he blushed deeply before removing arms from behind her back and gracefully lifted himself off of her. Eragon offered her a hand to get up. She took it, but immediately dropped it to shake any foliage from her clothes and hair.

_Saphira, did you not know that Arya was outside our door?_

_I did._

_Why didn't you say anything?_

_Eragon…it should be clear, you two legged creatures are my entertainment._

Eragon sent the equivalent of a scoff, before examining his current disheveled state. His blade was intact, no surprise, and his pants and blue tunic were not stained green, so he thought he looked okay, until Arya looked up and laughed at him.

"What? What is so funny?"

"Eragon, you have some grass in your hair."

"Oh." he tried in vain to get all of the green foliage out, but he couldn't seem to locate all of them.

"Is it all gone now?"

"No, hang on." Arya approached him, and ran her hands through his hair to get the remaining blades of grass out, "There now it's all gone."

Arya knew she didn't have to run her hands through his hair, but her curiosity got the better of her, she just wanted to see if his hair was as soft as it looked. As for her answer it was softer. They started to make their way over to Tialdari Hall. "Forgive me for not telling you I was coming, but I wanted to make sure you did not get lost in the Hall. It is quite a big place, and I often get lost if I don't pay attention to where I am."

Eragon laughed at that, a laugh she could never get tired of hearing, "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, there is no doubt I would have gotten lost in your home. I only two places there only one way to get to each. One is your room, and the other is the gardens. Both places those that you have shown me, and I know only one way to get there."

Arya smiled at him and they continued to walk.

"How is Queen Islanzadi's mood today?"

"Like the normal mood, a little peeved and short tempered, why do you ask?"

"I don't want to ask her to tell her deepest secrets on how Riders got their knowledge and trained when she is in a bad mood. I cannot afford to ruin my relationship with the Queen which, by the way, is similar to a mouse trying to appease a hungry lion." Eragon gulped.

Arya laughed at his analogy, "This is probably the best mood you'll catch her in, with her bad moods anyone in the vicinity will be lucky to be spared her caustic words."

Eragon's eyes betrayed his nervousness, but he nonetheless replied, "In that case, I have no choice to ask her tonight, in about ten minutes." Arya couldn't help but be amused as her Rider's nervousness. She had figured out quickly that she didn't care what her mother thought of her, Arya had just done whatever she wanted to do. She had no desire for the throne, and her mother could hold on to it forever for all she cared, either that or the crown will be given to her at a time much farther away than the near future. They continued their comfortable banter as they reached Tialdari Hall. Arya quietly led Eragon to the dining hall where the Queen was waiting for their arrival. She sat at the head of the table and motioned for Eragon to sit on her left and Arya in the seat directly across from him on her right. Eragon silently sat down next to the Queen starting to greet her in the proper elven way, to which she just waved her hand to say it wasn't necessary. Eragon smiled at her before taken his seat. "Thank you, your majesty for inviting me for dinner."

"There is no need to thank me, I should thank you, to be honest I have been getting quite bored of eating at an empty table. There is no one here to spend time with."

Eragon was slightly surprised at the Queen's confession, but nodded to show his understanding before continuing with his dinner. He stole a few glances at Arya who sometimes looked at him and smiled and other times was engaged in light conversation with her mother as to what has been going on while she was away. The conversation quickly turned to him, to his great dismay.

"Shadeslayer, what is your opinion of the Lady Nightstalker?"

He did not want to insult his liege lord, at the same time, he wanted to answer honestly, so he said, "Nasuada is an extremely intelligent woman, there is no doubt to that, however I do believe her inexperience in a leadership position had led her to take some rather hasty decisions. That being said, she has some great advisors, Arya svit-kona, Jormundar, and a few others. She is a good leader, and I have not had any other qualms about her yet."

"You speak wisely, I did feel the same way towards the leader of Varden, but she is someone to be respected, and she has not taken a major wrong decision as of yet."

Eragon glanced at Arya, letting the relief show through his eyes. She smiled at him before reaching her mind to his and saying, _Did you have a doubt that you answer badly? _

_Arya svit-kona, I always have a feeling that I am going to do something horribly wrong in front of your mother. Like I said, mouse trying to appease the lion. It almost never works out. The fact that I am still sitting here is probably my greatest accomplishment as of yet._

Arya bit her lip to keep from laughing at Eragon's revelation. She quickly took a swig of faelnirv before her mother noticed their exchange.

"Shadeslayer, you said that there was something of utmost importance that you needed to speak with me about. What is it?"

"Yes, your majesty, I did say that. As you know, Oromis-elda has passed away fighting valiantly, and I am still not strong enough to defeat Murtagh as he is under Galbatorix's command. If Murtagh came alone at me, with the experience Saphira and I have, I have no doubt we would succeed as we have become close to in the past, however, we know that Murtagh's body will be taken over by Galbatorix, and that presents a problem, as we are not strong enough to fight the King in our current state, and we have no means of getting stronger. I wanted to ask you if you knew of anyway to continue our training using records of what Riders before The Fall did to continue their training and become more powerful. I do not ask this for my own personal gains, but I afraid that I am not skilled enough to win this war in my current state. That is the simple truth."

"Your predicament presents a problem, there is no doubt. In a haste to protect that knowledge from any of the Forsworn, my mate Evander, placed a spell that ensured that only those in the royal family will be able to read what is written. I have no qualms of handing that knowledge over, however, I am guessing you will need Arya to read to you whatever is written on those pages. Daughter, do have any pressing business in Ellesmera?"

"No, not really, I only came with Eragon early so he could prepare for Oromis's funeral. Saphira asked if I would accompany them as they needed to get there early and I did need a break from the commotion. I would be happy to help Eragon Shadeslayer with his quest."

"Then it is settled, I will give my daughter the records of the Riders, and then you both will study the words to your heart's content."

"Thank you, your Highness, I am unable to express how grateful I am for your generosity."

"There is no need for your gratitude, we are all striving for the same goal, and not to mention you are Brom's son. He is a man we all owe a great deal to. I consider him family, as I consider you as well. You are a man to which I owe a great deal to as well."

Eragon looked at the Queen confusedly trying to think as to what the great elven queen owed him.

When she saw his confusion she replied, "My daughter's life."

"You honor me with your words, my Queen, thank you, it has been a long time since anyone who has not betrayed or left me consider me family."

The Queen simply nodded and laid her hand across Eragon's and gave him an understanding smile. Arya simply watched the exchange with excitement, _Maybe I can save him from his tortures after all._ Eragon looked at her with an unreadable expression of his face before breaking out into a smile, _Arya svit-kona, maybe I do have a hope after all._

The dinner ended shortly and Eragon was seen off by the Queen and Arya who escorted him to the entrance of Tialdari Hall, at which he bowed, thanked the two for dinner, and turned and walked back to his tree house with a grace evaded by any man who ever walked in Alagaesia. Arya stared longingly after him before turned to her mother who was also fervently watching him.

"Arya, he is a good man. He reminds me of your father, and of his father. I have a good feeling about him, I do not think he will fail."

"I know what you mean mother." replied Arya, who had since returned her gaze to a increasingly decreasing figure of her Rider.

Chapter seven: Do you honestly think that…?

Eragon entered his tree house late at night and was greeted by a sleeping Saphira. Not wanting to disturb her he removed his tunic, and slept bare-chested on his bed making as little sound as possible. That night, he slept easily, but his nightmares had visited him again. Within minutes he was tossing and turning in his bed trying to look away from the images vividly playing in his head.

Arya went up to her room and couldn't sleep that night. She thought of everything her mother admitted that night, and couldn't help but think that it would somehow be okay if Eragon and her openly loved each other. She decided to pay Eragon a visit, hoping that he was awake. She silently opened her window and jumped down with a practiced ease and ran as quietly as she could towards Eragon's treehouse. She had no idea that her mother was watching from her own window with a slight smile on her lips. Arya quickly reached Eragon's tree house only to be greeted by all the lights turned off. She crept up to if he was sleeping and she saw Eragon tossing and turning with a look of fury and torture upon his face. She covered her mouth to keep from crying out at his despair. Desperate to wake him up from his misery, she jumped through the window and entered his mind. What she saw was enough to age a man thousands of years.

The first image was of his Uncle Garrow, a man she only knew by his memories, to be his guardian. Garrow was an elderly man with a smile on his face but warm brown eyes, she saw his memories of Garrow taking care of him when Eragon was little and she couldn't help but have tears in her eyes at how loved Eragon was. But suddenly the scene changed and a large man dressed in all blue shiny armor with eyes blazing with rage and pure primal fury set the man on fire and stared at the little Eragon with a look of hatred. She saw Roran and an older Eragon playing in the fields when that same man clad in bright blue armor cut Roran's head off and watch Eragon cower in fear with that same look of hatred. She saw Brom fighting that same terrifying man in order to save Eragon, but in the end Brom was stabbed through the heart will little effort. The man in blue armor continued to hack at Brom's lifeless body while Eragon had screamed for him to stop. The scene changed yet again and this time she saw herself and Eragon fighting the man in the blue almost overpowering him until the man smiled evilly and immobilized Eragon with an impossible amount of magic and tied Arya up before torturing her before his eyes. Every cut the man in blue was purposeful in mutilating her body, but what shocked her most were the screams that came from the dream Eragon. They were the most terrifying ones she could have ever known. That simply being cut up in front of him could send him into that much of a rage and anguish shocked her. She knew Faolin would never be able to match Eragon's emotions, but now she even doubted her father cared for her as much as Eragon did. When the life finally went out of Arya's mutilated body, the man released Eragon from his magical binding. Eragon was livid with fury and attacked the man with a strength he did not know he possessed, but even that was not enough. The man in the blue knocked his sword down, killed Saphira with one word, and lifted his helmet off to reveal…Eragon. Arya withdrew from his mind abruptly, his nightmares were about him turning evil, and killing every single person he considered family. Arya stared down at the real Eragon's contorted face in an attempt to wake him up from his horrors, but as soon as she touched him, Eragon sprung awake and enveloped Arya in a deathly tight grip with his hand at her throat and his sword practically piercing her chest.

Eragon quickly came to his senses before realizing in horror what he was about to do. He jumped up and ran out of the house to the place by the stream. Arya was so shocked at his speed that she had to catch her breath before following him. "Eragon! Eragon!"

She quickly located him by the stream, but was surprised to see him with rage in his eyes.

He enunciated with a menacing voice, "What. Were. You. Thinking."

"I do not understand your anger, Eragon, I was merely attempting to wake you from your dream."

He shook with fury. "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING ARYA?! Did you not understand when I told you that I did not want your help with my dreams? Did you not understand or were you just too dense to comprehend that when I say 'No' it means 'No'? Have you any idea what could have happened if I had not come to my senses? I could have killed you! Or did you want my nightmares to come true? Did you want to see me kill the person I love the most and have me live in that torture of being the end of you? Would that be enough punishment for my mistake of loving you?"

Shocked at his rage and loss of control, Arya stiffened and hesitantly replied, "Eragon, I had no intention of offending you or placing myself in danger." Her voice became formal again, "But I highly doubt that you would have been able really hurt me."

"Why Arya?! Do you not think I am more powerful than you? I am more powerful than any other elf in the world. Draw your sword and we'll see exactly how powerful I am."

Arya taken aback by his words nevertheless drew her sword only to have Eragon attack with a speed impossible to mimic. Eragon struck her sword repeatedly, strongly, and with the same speed. Even being the fastest of elves she could only defend herself and not have time to attack. She hadn't truly sparred with his since his change during the Blood-Oath ceremony. Eragon overpowered her in a matter of seconds by pushing her against a tree, knocking her sword out of her hands and raising his to her neck.

"You have no idea of what I am capable of Arya." His voice was deep and frightening, he closed his eyes, bringing his emotions in check. His voice softened ever so slightly, "At that moment, the only thing I saw was an evil man standing before me and I was so angry at him for taking you from me that I found the strength to kill him. I had no idea that the person I grabbed was you. Had I not woken, I would have killed you. Whatever you do, do not doubt that I am able to hurt you."

She pushed the sword away from her neck and walked up to Eragon. She held his face in her soft hands and forced him to look at her. She nearly cried out at his expression, he truly believed that he was capable of evil.

"Eragon, I know of your power. I have seen it in battles many times. But it is not because you are not more powerful than me that I do not fear you hurting me. It is not because you are not the strongest of warriors alive today. I do not believe you will hurt me because I know you love me. I do not believe you will hurt me because you have already risked your life countless number of times to save me. You are not evil Eragon, and I am not afraid of you. You will not become the next tyrant, you have too pure of a heart to turn evil. And it is because of this that I started falling in love with you as well." She leaned up to briefly kiss his lips before returning her gaze to his eyes, "I love you Eragon."

Eragon could say nothing, he was in awe yet again by the beautiful elf that held him in her arms. Incapable of speaking, he simply brought his hand to cup her cheek before following quickly with his lips on hers. He kissed her as he dreamed of kissing her many times. He didn't care that he couldn't breath, he was, at that moment, happy with having her there with him. He smiled against her lips and felt her smile back. He then lifted her in his arms and twirled her around, laughing against her lips, before setting her down and pulling back to look at his beloved's face.

"Arya, iet Drottningu, I love you." Arya gave a wide smile before leaning against his forehead and mimicking his laughter.

Hand in hand, Eragon walked Arya back to her home talking of love, pasts, and each other, but most of all just basking in each other's presence and marveling at how much strength the other gave them.

The Queen watched from her room, the scene of her daughter and the Rider walking hand in hand. She had noticed that Arya was happier than normal when she had met Eragon, she had just not known the extent of the effect Eragon had on her. The Rider, on the other hand, seemed to take years off of his aged eyes. He too, seemed happier than ever before, and in that moment, Islanzadi knew that they would have a happy life together, had there not been a war to fight. Sighing at the inevitable, the Queen walked back to her room, unsure of how to approach the situation.

Arya stopped walking just before they reached the door to her home. She turned to Eragon with a happy look in her eyes, and smiled at him before leaning in to capture his lips with hers. It was supposed to be just a good-bye kiss, but both remained locked in their passionate embrace, running their hands up and down each other's bodies, for what seemed like hours. They both were panting when they broke apart. Eragon smiled down and kissed the top of Arya's forehead in an effort to be a gentleman and let her go, but Arya kept a tight hold of him and wouldn't let him leave. She was far too happy with Eragon's arms around her keeping her warm in the coolness of the elven night.

"You could carry me to my room, since you know the way." Arya asked hopefully.

Eragon smiled wider before loyally obliging. He picked up her small frame, bridal style, and Arya locked her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer to him and resting her head in the crook of neck, right above his collar bone. He was surprised that Arya had allowed him to carry her, but he pushed the thought out, loving that she simply allowed it. Eragon continued to walk with ease, an unfamiliar peace slipping through him as he felt Arya's hot breath on his neck. He reached her room, opened the door and walked over to her bed. He gently placed her down, kissed her one last time on her perfect lips, and walked out of the door closing it quietly behind him. It was a long time since Arya and Eragon had felt this way, that the world was going to be alright, that everything would be alright as long as they had each other to support. With these thoughts and the sensation of Arya's lips on his, Eragon fell into a peaceful sleep, one that evaded him since he fought Murtagh for the first time.

Chapter eight: A discovery

He woke surprisingly late and extremely well rested. Saphira was begging to know what changed and Eragon had revealed to her what happened last night.

_Eragon! I am so happy for you, I knew that you two would eventually end up together. I am glad that we have something to fight for besides the words of other people. _

_I can't stop smiling Saphira, I have never felt this way before. _

_It's because you're in love and she loves you too. That's why it is so different. _

They heard a knock on the door and Arya walked in to find a smiling Eragon and a happy Saphira looking at her.

"I brought breakfast and the papers so we can read through them." Eragon was determinedly walking over to her, but she stopped him with a hand and turned to Saphira, _I love Eragon, and I need to know if you're okay with us being together. I have never felt this strongly towards someone before, and I don't think I will ever be able to again. _

_You definitely did not ask my permission last night Arya. _ To this, Arya blushed deeply but didn't say anything so Saphira continued with a laugh. _Even if I didn't approve of you, which I do, there is no one else Eragon could possibly love more. But yes Arya, I am perfectly fine with your relationship with my Rider. He is happier than ever, and for the first time in many days, he has had a normal, peaceful sleep. And you are the sole reason for that. _Arya beamed as she looked at Eragon, but she became so lost in his fervent gaze that she did not notice Saphira walk up to her and touch her on her brow. _We both love you very much Arya._ Saphira nuzzled her hand before ruffling Eragon's hair with her large head. _If you two would excuse me, I need to hunt today, and you both have pressing work to do. I will return shortly, do not forget to fill me in if you find something of utmost importance. If that is the case I will return shortly. _Eragon and Arya merely nodded before Saphira took off with a powerful flap of her wings.

As soon as Saphira took off, Eragon pulled Arya closer to him and kissed her. She smiled against his lips and pulled back laughing.

"What? Am I that bad of a kisser?"

"No, Eragon, you are a great kisser, it's just that you still did not put a shirt on since last night."

Eragon frowned as he looked down and saw that she was right. "Hmm" he mumbled, "I must not have noticed it."

Arya's hands were still lying on his bare chest as she leaned in and whispered, "I had a hard time not noticing last night. And I still will have a hard getting anything done today if you don't put something on." She placed a small kiss against his lips before pulling away.

Eragon blushed slightly, but couldn't stop the smile coming to his face. He loved her like this the most, playful, but serious. He stepped away from the comfort of her body before walking to his closet and putting on a red tunic made of a very soft cotton material. He brought out the plates in his cupboards before serving breakfast to Arya and himself.

"Are these the papers that your mother gave you?"

"Yes, what do you see?"

"Absolutely nothing, it literally looks like a blank piece of paper to me. What do you see?"

"There are diagrams and pictures of maneuvers and some spells that can only be invoked with the magic of a dragon. Others are just documentations of when and where each Rider was discovered and of what species."

"Well, you know better than I." They both laughed and continued with their conversation.

"Are you going to tell your mother about us?"

Arya turned serious and said, "She does admire you a lot, she even compared you to my father. I think it's best that she know, but just not so soon. She might think that we are moving too quickly to have a stable relationship. She doesn't know that you have been courting me since, well, since after we sparred for the first time."

He cringed at her words, "Was it really that obvious?"

Arya laughed when she replied, "Normally it wouldn't have been, but you have the most expressive eyes, and that's why I knew."

Eragon smiled at her and soon became fixed in the trance her laugh put him in, he was grateful that he just didn't have to hide it anymore.

"Are you alright with waiting for a while until we tell my mother?"

"Of course iet evarínya nuanen (my beautiful star) I am alright with whatever you decide for our relationship."

Eragon's selfless nature continued to surprise her, and so expressing in actions she couldn't possibly be able to express in words, she leaned over the table and gently kissed him. She pulled away but rested her head against his and closed her eyes.

Eragon watched the expressions fly through her face, the most prominent one being confusion at how easily he accepted a decision made by her. Eragon opened his mental link to her, as he had nothing to hide, and there she found his conviction to do whatever it takes to make her happy. All he wanted, all he would ever want is to keep her happy, and whatever decisions that centered their relationship Eragon would always do what she wanted as it would keep her happy. She watched with a mesmerized stare and she leaned closer and kissed him slowly but passionately trying to convey what his revelation meant to her. He pulled his head back from hers before kissing the tip of her nose and leaning back in his chair.

Arya opened her eyes and drank in the sight of Eragon relaxing in a chair in front of her with the most loving expression etched in his face. "I love you Eragon" she whispered in the Ancient Language.

"I love you too, my princess." he replied in the Ancient Language.

They quickly finished their breakfast before moving to the couch and starting to recopy the documents on different pieces of papers so that Eragon could see and take away any useful information. They sat down on the couch and tried to settle in a comfortable position which ended up being Eragon with a pad of parchment and a feather quill which he commanded to rewrite what ever words when signaled on his lap, and his other hand around Arya's shoulders and Arya leaning her head against Eragon's beating heart with the enormous stack of papers in her hand. They started to go through each paper one by one and Eragon signaled the feather quill to write down whatever he deemed necessary as Arya read the words out loud to him. Some of the diagrams Arya was forced to draw out, but only after Eragon wanted a better description of what Arya was saying which was not very often, only in the most intricate attacks. After going through half of the papers, both Eragon and Arya were exhausted.

"Let's take a walk. It would be good to get away."

"Yes, where is Saphira do you think?"

Eragon sought out his dragon with his mind and found her a couple of leagues away chewing satisfactorily on some hunted deer.

"She just started eating."

Arya nodded and laced her fingers with Eragon's as they walked in silence down the isolated path towards the river.

"Arya, I forgot to thank you."

"For what Eragon?"

"For taking my nightmares away iet nuanen (my beautiful)"

Arya turned and kissed his arm before sliding underneath it to encircle his waist with her arm, allowing Eragon to slid his arm down the side of her back before pulling her closer to the warmth of his body. They stopped at the riverbank and lay down. Arya rested her head on Eragon's stomach so that they were at perpendicular angles, one parallel to the bank and the other facing the water. Eragon's hand arm snaked down and laid it across Arya's stomach, while Arya pulled herself farther up. They laid there for a good half an hour before Arya pulled herself to lie next to Eragon and rest her cheek on his chest. Eragon absently started running his fingers through her long black hair and Arya sighed contentedly against his chest before raising her arms to encircle his waist.

Dejectedly whispering, "We should get back to work." Arya suggested even though she knew that she would rather stay like that for some for time. Eragon glanced down at her face and simply replied, "Drottningu, your wish is my command…both of them." He easily lifted her in his arms and made his back to the tree house. He used magic to transfer all the materials to the bed, but out of the way so he could adjust the pillows allowing him and Arya to lay down with her head resting on his chest and her arm encircling his waist and his left hand running through her hair while the other hand softly stroked her arm that encircled his waist. He whispered the words for the papers to align themselves so Arya could still read them with ease and tell him what to tell his magic quill to write.

Arya smiled at his ingeniousness and kissed him before returning her head to his chest right above his steadily beating heart. They moved through the rest of the pages. Saphira returned shortly after, she soon joined in on Eragon's judgment of what was needed and what was not. With Saphira's opinion, the three moved quickly through the rest of the papers. At the end, Eragon looked even more dejected than before.

Noticing his sudden change in demeanor Arya cupped the side of his face, turned his head towards her and asked, "What's wrong, we have tons of information and even more skills that you can learn, but you are still not happy. What's wrong?"

"This stuff we went through, useful as it may be, is not what Solembum told me to look for, or what Oromis-elda meant."

Arya looked at him quizzically before remembering Solembum's words, "_You have a power far greater than any human, dwarf, elf, one that rivals only the strongest of dragons. What that is I cannot tell you for I do not know, but in order to find this power you must look for the one with the black rose stained in blood, the one with the shadows being lit by fire, and the one with the thousand" _Eragon was right; there was no sign of anything in what they looked through.

"Eragon, what do you mean by what Oromis meant, what did he say?"

Eragon scooted around her and off the bed and retrieved the letter from his desk before returning to his position holding Arya close to him and giving her the letter. She read through it, but was at a loss for words when she tried to think of what the old Rider could have meant.

"A power that lain dormant for many years, something that you have briefly talked about before. Eragon, what are some things that Oromis touched upon, but did not elaborate even if you asked your usual charade of endless questions."

Eragon frowned at her words, but nevertheless thought upon what she said, "The first was the source of Galbatorix's power, which we now know to be the Eldunari, the second being my parentage, the third of the origins of the Razac… and the Grey Folk."

He gasped, "That's it, Saphira, Arya! That's it, the power that lain dormant for many years is that of the Grey Folk!"

_But how are we to find the source of the power, much less master it Eragon?_

"Solembum's words, he said it was simply a way to get power, a place of learning, we need to look for anything that might mention the Grey Folk in Oromis's library and hopefully whatever Solembum mentioned will be in there. If this is it, we finally have a chance against the Empire."

Eragon smiled and kissed Arya before dashing out to his master's hut. Arya should have been happy for him, but the only thing she could think of is Angela's prediction of the pain Eragon would have to go through and she immediately became unnerved. She looked at Saphira who merely nodded and said across their mental link, _I know what you are worried about, and so am I. Angela's prophecy never fails to come true. I am afraid for my Rider. I can't bear for him to be in anymore pain, but he is still willing to go through whatever to save this world that took everything away from him. But I suppose it is still worth fighting for, simply because that world that took everything away from him gave him to me, and gave you to him, and for that, we both would give our lives to save this world. I am just afraid of the how part. _

Arya merely nodded and got on Saphira who flew after Eragon to Oromis's hut.


	4. Chapters 923

Chapter Nine: What threatens the sanity.

Eragon was furiously pulling books from shelves to see if any mention of the Grey Folk was there. Most of the time, the book gave a brief description of what the Grey Folk were believed to be. Arya arrived shortly after and followed suit, but she too found nothing of great importance. Eragon angrily slammed a book on the desk and hissed menacingly, "How can there be nothing? Not even on the Grey Folk, no other theories or even anything else on gaining power."

Arya's heart broke at the sight of a caged Eragon, she slowly made her way over to him, laid her hands over his muscular chest and leaned up to gently kiss his lips. Eragon's angry quickly subsided. He stared down at his miracle and wondered what he did to deserve her. She answered, reading his mind "You were simply born Eragon, the fact that you existed in this world in enough on your part to deserve me." He had no reply but to kiss her again. He found he was often at a loss of words around her. Arya laughed and said, "Do not lose hope Eragon, we haven't searched the majority of the room yet, there still could be here that talks about what the Grey Folk really are." He nodded and proceeded to search the remaining contents of the room.

Hours later they were still searching for any sign of the Grey Folks history and knowledge, but to no avail. He suddenly heard a deep booming voice in his head.

_Eragon? _

_Glaedr-elda? _

_Yes, it is I, forgive my absence, I have mourned too long, we need to concentrate on your power. _

_There is no need to apologize, I did not think you would be able to talk anytime soon. _

_I see you are looking for the Grey Folk, this is good for they are the answer to gaining the power needed to defeat Galbatorix. But first I believe congratulations are in order for you and Arya Drottningu. _

Arya blushed deeply but laced her fingers with Eragon's nevertheless.

_Thank you Glaedr-elda. _

_Don't be alarmed, I found out from Saphira, that and all the other transpiring events including your encounter with Solembum and Angela. I am afraid that they are right, if you attempt to gain this power, you will be put through unbearable pain. However, before I scare you, you need to know what the Grey Folk are. Look behind the bookshelves. _

Eragon and Arya turned to the bookshelves and moved them till a large painting of Anurin, Vrael, and surprisingly Brom.

_Remove the painting Eragon, you should find a secret shelf behind it. _

_Yes, Glaedr-elda. _

He easily removed the painting from the wall and discovered a secret door that could be opened with a key.

_Get the key from the book that Oromis left you the letter in. _

Eragon quickly located the book and opened it. He could find nothing. He turned to his master, but only thing he said was the Eragon needed to get it out himself for the great dragon did not know the way. Eragon searched the pages till one struck his attention. The cover page had an interesting design. The center was a black colored rose with dried blood on its surface. Surrounding the picture in the center were shadows being shunned away by flames emerging from around the picture. And to his amazement, the book had exactly one thousand pages. He had found the key, literally, to getting his power. He reached to touch the rose, but as soon as he did, the picture became liquidly and the liquid turned clear. In the center of the book was an intricate key. He lifted it and returned to the door.

_Place the key in the lock and cut your hand on the blade that comes out. _

_As you wish Glaedr-elda. _

Just as Glaedr had said, the key fitted itself in place and a long blade protruded from the hilt of the key. Bracing himself he placed his hand a little forcefully in the blade and moved his hand down drawing a significant of blood in a short time. Soon the entire blade was dripping with Eragon's blood. He removed his hand when Glaedr told him it was enough. Not wanting him in any more pain than was necessary Arya took his hand and healed it for him before dropping it and looking absently in a different direction. Eragon took her hand in his, laced his fingers through and brought her hand to his lips and said, "Thank you." She smiled and nodded.

The blade retracted and an entire door became visible. The door was filled with ancient symbols and moving circles and wheels that glowed with a bright neon blue light before settling down in one constant rhythm and pulsating the air around with energy. Soon, all sorts of colors became visible and Eragon, Arya, and Saphira were soon surrounded by flowing currents of power of different beautiful colors. The energy moved through Eragon before returning with equal force back through the center of the keyhole leaving the same bright blue light, but the wheels were stopped and on the side, a door handle was revealed.

_Eragon, this is where you must go alone. No one can follow you in there. The door opened for you because you are the last of descendents of the Grey Folk. That is why Oromis feared you, you have more power than all but the strongest of dragons, more power than even me. And that is why you and Saphira are the most powerful Rider and dragon pair to ever walk the earth. Being a descendent of Grey Folk, you have but to find your power, and once you do Eragon you will have the power to bring the entire world to ashes. Your powers will not know limits. No one, not even the King can stand before you if you succeed in these trials. Anurin, Vrael, and your father Brom are the only know Grey Folk. Anurin used his power to include humans in the Rider pact. Vrael tried in vain to protect Alagaesia, but he purposely lost as he knew that if he would lose then he could stop the Forsworn and their killing of younger riders, but little did he know that the Forsworn would have killed the others whether or not Vrael lost. Brom changed his features to that of a human. Brom was and elf who fell in love with Selena, a human and your mother. However he changed his race to overthrow Galbatorix. Unfortunately, Selena was captured by Morzan, and was forced to mother Murtagh. Brom saved her, by giving her you. You are half elven. You always had the power, strength, and speed of an elf, but your mindset did not unlock those powers. The Blood-Oath celebration called the magic of the dragons and unlocked those powers for you. The truth of your heritage is that Vrael is Anurin's son. Brom is Vrael's son, and you are Brom's son thereby making you the last true descendent of the Grey Folk. However, you are more powerful than all of them. You finished your training faster than all of them put together. As you are, without Saphira, you can stop water from flowing in the largest of oceans. This new power can let you burn the entire forest of Du Weldonvarden and have enough energy to bring down the castle of the Empire from here. But getting to that point will be the hardest you will ever face. Rest tonight, lock this place up, and sleep well. Tomorrow morning, don your armor and your sword, tell your loved ones goodbye, bring that faelnirv with restorative properties that Oromis gave you. You will need it. Also, bring your memories, bring what you fight for in your heart and you will succeed. _

_Thank you Glaedr-elda, you have given me much hope. _

_No do not thank me, after you succeed, if you still have the strength to feel anything but hatred for me, then thank me. _

_We should go Eragon, it is getting late. _

_Yes, Saphira, we should get going. _

Eragon and Arya got on Saphira's back, Eragon circled his arms around his love and buried his face in her neck. He was surprised that Saphira landed at his tree house when she knew that Arya needed to get home to Tialdari Hall. Arya, sensing Eragon's confusion, said, "Tonight my love, tonight I stay with you, for me, for us. I don't want to be away from you, but I know that can't happen, so for now, I will opt for staying with you until the time comes for our separation."

Eragon nodded, kissed Arya with as much passion and love as he could and picked her up and laid her next to him while he encircled his arms around her slender waist and laid his head down underneath her chin. Arya ran her fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe his ferociously beating heart. She massaged his shoulders and his neck in an effort to get him to relax. Sensing her worry at this stressed condition, he lifted his head up, looked into her emerald eyes and simply said, "I don't want to leave you. I just got you. I love you more than you will ever know." With these words he opened his mental link to her and flooded her with his emotions mainly his anguish at leaving her again and his undying love for her. Arya truly did not think that Eragon's feelings ran that deeply and when he knew she understood he brought his lips to hers again and buried his hands in her midnight black hair, coaxing her to open her mouth. When she finally did, Eragon found her tongue with his and engaged it in a fierce duel. Arya clutched Eragon's head to hers and brought her arms to lock his head incredibly close to hers. Eragon didn't want to leave the haven of her mouth, but he broke away and returned his head once more to her chest and wildly beating heart. "I love you Arya, without you I am truly lost." "Shh love, you will never lose me. I am yours in this world, in the next, and in every one after that." Eragon kissed her neck and trailed up to her ear with his mouth before returning to his position. Arya shuddered underneath his mouth, but she clutched her Rider's to her chest even closer, not ever wanting to let him go. And like that, Rider and princess, fell asleep.

Eragon woke for the second time, without any nightmares. He smiled at the sleeping figure beneath him, her arms were still tightly clutching his head to her chest. He pulled himself up to her face and gently started to kiss her awake. "Eragon…" Arya muttered before opening her eyes to see the face of her beloved Rider above her. He skimmed his hand down the side of her face and continued all the way down to her thigh before resting his hand underneath the outer of her thigh. "Good morning iet Drottningu. You are truly the most beautiful woman to ever exist. I would live a perfect life if I had the luck to wake up and see the face of the woman I love more than anything everyday." He leaned in to kiss her, smiled, and started to get out of bed.

Arya reached out to stop him. "Eragon, I know this isn't the time that we can be together, but I still want to ask you something." She took a deep breath and asked, "Will you be my mate? You have the gedwey ignesia to remember your bond with Saphira, but if that is not enough I want you to have the Yawe as a symbol of our love, something else for you to have. But that's not the only reason either. Eragon, I don't know how long we will be separated for, but if something should happen to you or me, I want to know that we left the earth knowing that we were loved completely by our mate."

Eragon nodded and Arya proceeded with completing the ceremony and said the words that bound their hearts together. To her surprise, her previous yawe, the one she received with Faolin started to burn fervently on the back of her shoulder, she stifled a scream as it left a rather large burn in the area. Eragon looked at her worriedly before realizing that a yawe had appeared right above his beating heart and a similar one on the exact same spot on his mate. Arya leaned in to kiss him, but he moved away and examined her shoulder. He gasped when he saw the large burn and he quickly healed it. He kissed the back of her shoulder before returning to kiss her lips. Arya placed her hand over the mark of the Yawe on Eragon's heart, she then raised her eyes to meet his when he placed his hand over hers. "Thank you Eragon, you make me feel like I have something worth living for when you leave. You should know, I never consented to have Faolin as my mate, he said the words when I was asleep, and when I woke up I had that yawe on my shoulder. That mark is only meant for life long mates, most elves just verbally consider themselves mates, but few actually go through the binding words. The reason why it burned so badly is because I am taking a new mate. I just wanted you to know that you are the only man I have ever considered taking this bond with, you are the only that I would ever consider taking this bond with, from now to forever. Please don't leave me forever. Don't leave me alone for the rest of life. Eragon, losing you would be so much worse than the tortures of losing my father, or Faolin, or even Gilead. Eragon, without you, all my pain finds its way back. I need to you protect me from my own memories, I need to know you will come back to me."

"Arya, I will come back to you. That I can promise you, even if I fail at getting that power, I will come to you. I am just as lost without you, I need to keep my memories, my tortures away. I will always love you, remember that. If we are to be separated for longer than normal, always remember that I will love you forever. My beating heart is evidence for my love for you."

Arya nodded at her beloved Rider. Eragon got up and donned his armor all the while Arya watching him. He was about to attach Brisingr to his waist, but Arya got up and helped him with attaching his scabbard to his armor. She then laid her head on Eragon's chest and held on to him. Eragon noticed Arya's vulnerability, and in an effort to comfort her he brought his arms around her and stroked her hair reassuringly. Saphira woke up to see the pair embracing and smiled think that Angela was right, his love will give him the strength to succeed in this battle. The three of them made their way over Tialdari Hall and explained the situation to the Queen. Arya told her mother that she and Eragon were mates. Islanzadi said she expected as much and was glad that Arya found a man worthy of her, but that they would need to discuss the matter at a later time. Eragon thanked the queen for her hospitality before taking Arya's hand and walking to Saphira's side to leave for Oromis's hut.

As soon as Saphira was airborne, Eragon held on to Arya tightly and took comfort in her presence and in the strength she gave him. They arrived shortly to the door. _Say your goodbyes Eragon, I am even not able to come with you in there. _

_Goodbye Glaedr-elda. _

_Saphira? _

_Yes little one?_

_Goodbye. _

_No. You will not say goodbye to me, you will come back to me. I demand it. You forget Eragon that I cannot exist without you, we are two halves of the same soul. Our fates are sealed together, so you must come back alive for me, your outcome here decides both our lives. _

_Saphira…I love you, I can't be me without you, those days I spent away from you were the days I realized how much I need you in my life. With you, the pain of being alone became bearable. I love you so much Saphira. _

_Little one, I love you too, far more than anyone can guess. You will come back for me. Now say goodbye to Arya, I have a feeling she is about to start crying. _

Eragon slowly turned to look at Arya's eyes and sure enough they were filled with tears that threatened to fall uncontrollably. "Arya…" She silenced him with a kiss with so much love and passion put into it he could barely believe it was real. He kissed her back with just as much passion and love before retracting his lips from hers and wiping her tears from her face. "Won't you tell me not to say goodbye and say I will see you later."

Arya could only muster the energy to let out a little sob before engulfing her beloved Rider in her embrace. Eragon stood with his arms holding his dear princess. He gave one last kiss and told her, "I will come back for you, I am not satisfied with this little time I had with you. I will come back for you, for me, and for us. I will come back for you Saphira, for the sake of both our lives, and I will come back for Alagaesia, I will come back because I have yet to complete my mission." With this he opened the intricate door and walked in, the door automatically shut behind him. _All we can do now is hope Arya, hope that he will come back for us._ Arya broke down with tears streaming down her face and her arms encircling Saphira. "When did I become so weak, so weak that I can't ever part with him for a second?" _You are not weak little princess, you are strong because of him, and it is your newfound strength that is allowing you to feel those emotions you locked away for so long because you were afraid that they would hurt you. _Knowing she was right, Arya wiped her tears from her face and left to Eragon's tree house. She made the decision that because they were mates, she would live in his house as most mates do.

Chapter Ten: Only the first of tests.

Eragon was greeted by complete darkness. He lit his surroundings and saw a passageway leading to more darkness. On the walls he saw strange markings of happenings of magic. He continued to observe his surroundings while rapidly moving through the tunnel. He soon came upon a large dome like room. He was about to move to see his surroundings when a pair of large red eyes greeted him, then the entire room was lit with fire. Standing in front of him was the largest, most grotesque monster he had ever seen. It had two horns and was fuming with rage with fire and sparks falling from the easily twenty foot tall body. Before he could do anything, the creature spoke, "You are Grey Folk, and you must pass this test of strength in order to go the next level. If you cannot defeat me, then know that you are too weak to handle the power of the Grey Folk, do not waver in your attacks, your hesitance will be your downfall, and if you were listening, you should already know how to defeat me."

Eragon did not have time to think about the words that creature had for him because it immediately began attacking him in a synchronized motion. Instead of thinking about his words, Eragon focused his attention on assessing his opponent. The creature was large and strong, he had a long tail and a body literally made of fire, there is no doubt that the creature is fast enough to follow his movements, but he doubted the creature's ability to use magic. He fired shards of ice without using words of the ancient language, but those had no effect. They simply broke when they hit the creature. Eragon had no choice but to keep evading the attacks. He was able to block the attacks, but that was only because of his strength was equal to an elf's, well he was an elf, they just unlocked his elven abilities in him. That was it that was the key, he realized the only reason why he was able to accept those powers is because he was powerful enough, mentally powerful enough to have his powers unlocked. With this revelation, he was able to push the large creature farther and farther back. That was what the creature meant, in order to unlock his powers of strength, he must be mentally prepared to handle them. New strength released through Eragon as he gained an advantage, the creature was momentarily taken aback by Eragon's new strength. Using the time to his advantage, Eragon jumped twenty feet in the air until he was staring at the creature directly and brought Brisingr through the creature's neck. The head fell off as Eragon decapitated it. Not tired from due to his growth in stamina and power physically, Eragon looked for the passageway to continue. He stopped when he heard rumbling behind him, he watched in amazement as the creature's head situated back in its rightful place before turning towards Eragon, "You have done well, you looked in your past and brought meaning to words from those experiences. No other that has passed through me achieved this test as quickly. You may pass to the next level, but I warn you, I am the easiest level to pass, heed these words as well. Do not let your arrogance get the better of you, there will always been things more powerful than you if they find a reason to be. You can be killed by an ant just as you can be killed by a child. With enough reason, any creature can find to will to succeed in its quest. Now go before the door closes."

Eragon bowed to the creature and muttered, "Thank you" before running through the next passageway with the dark creature staring after him.

Arya laid in her mate's bed taking in his musky scent of a forest just after it rained. His scent comforted her. She fell asleep thinking of Eragon before Saphira engulfed her under her large wing. Arya dreamt of the day her mate would come back to her. She got up the next morning with the knowledge that Eragon was not beside her first and foremost on her mind. She resolved to find the strength to stay strong for Eragon and for all the people she was fighting for. She looked at Saphira who understood what she intended to do. Arya took a hot bath, changed, and hopped on Saphira to go to Tialdari Hall to continue with her work as an ambassador, to continue to fight as her beloved was fighting. Slowly, to keep herself from crying, she turned curt and caustic, only sticking to what she had to do to get her job done. She did not interact with others unnecessarily. She spent her free time in Eragon's tree house with Saphira hoping that he would come back to her.

Eragon found himself in another dark tunnel and proceeded to illuminate his way through the passage. This passage was marred by men tortured of creatures he had never seen before. At the end of the passage he saw one such creature sit atop a broken human throne. He continued past he image and came upon a small alchemist's room. He saw no one but he heard a voice from behind him, "Ah so have beat the large creature. I was not expecting you so soon." Eragon whirled around, hand on his hilt, to be greeted by a hooded figure. The man took his hood down to reveal an elderly elf with the lines of age showing, but nonetheless in very good health. "This next test is one of your determination. Those who have the power of the Grey Folk must prove their determination to finish what they started, they must prove they have the conviction, that they have the reason to live. So you will be injected with a rather deadly potion that is connected with magic to recede once its senses the right reasons to win."

"When will you inject it?"

"Oh young one, I already have, the poison is in that passageway and in the very particles in this room. By simply breathing you have already inhaled the poison, it is already in abundance in your body system."

Eragon was about to say something until an excruciating pain took over his body. His calves cramped and tore. His stomach began to jolt and his lungs compressing his body. His heartbeat went wild and his throat constricted so he couldn't breath. His throbbing head threatened to burst his head open. His back curved and snapped in pieces. Eragon had never experienced any pain worse than the one he felt at that time. He tried to think with a clear mind, he tried to find his purpose, but he kept on coming blank. Feeling the fight in him slowly fail, he thought of Saphira and Arya, the two women he would give anything for, the two women he would do anything for. What was he doing, he had given his word that he fight, that he would come back to them. He put his love for them foremost in his mind to remind him of his purpose in living, it was to keep those he loved safe, he fought for peace and love. He thought of the time Saphira hatched, he thought of the first time Arya laughed, his first time flying, his first dance with Arya, her first time breathing fire, their first kiss, he fought for them, his purpose was to fight for them because he loved them and they loved him. Slowly he felt the effects of the poison recede from his body. He gasped for air and struggled to catch his breath. His frantically beat heart calmed itself. "Congratulations, you have just passed the second test, the test for finding the right purpose for succeeding. Your purpose isn't to kill to the King, it is to find a way for peace and happiness to prosper, it is to make Alagaesia a world where you can live happily in love with your princess and your dragon. You may enter the next chamber. Even in death, you remember what is most important to you. Your heart is in the right place showing that you have the heart to rule the power, and not be ruled by it. But remember, your next challenge will test the strength of your mind. I wish you good luck and I bid you good bye."

Eragon bowed to the elf and said his thanks before going through the passageway. Here he saw man and elves and dwarfs fighting each other and at the end, the throne was broken in different pieces and no one was at the top. Everyone was dead. He continued to the next room. There he found a sparring ring and in the center a man dressed in all blue, the man from his dreams – himself. The image of him turned around and faced him, "You will have access to unlimited amounts of magic, you are no longer bound by your limitations. Your emotions will determine what power of magic you will feel coursing through your veins. But be wary of the type of emotions you feel, some of them can cause you fail no matter how powerful they are." The room was instantly lighted and in front of Eragon was the situation in his dreams, he would have to go through each of the deaths of his loved ones. "Are you ready Shadeslayer? Are you ready to fight your worst enemy, yourself?"

Bracing himself for what he was about to do, he drew Brisingr. The blade began to excite at the magic in the surroundings. It drew on its own a bright blue flame that constantly traveled up and down the shiny metal blue blade. Eragon lifted his sword and attacked his image. He drew upon his feeling of conviction, but soon he realized he was losing ground. His image laughed at him and Eragon grew angry and started to push back. But as his anger grew, his house caught on fire and the fire grew faster and faster, soon his uncle caught on fire and burned to death. His image kicked his stomach and he went flying. Image Eragon's eyes grew maniacal as the new scene of Brom's sacrifice for Eragon came up. Eragon's rage grew even more, and he was moved through gory details of his father's demise. His anger turned into fury as he gained the advantage against his image, but the images of Roran and Katrina's demise occurred in front of him. Eragon could not understand, his power was growing, but the images kept on occurring, their deaths kept on going on. Oromis's and Glaedr's came next, he watched in horror and he evaded his image's attacks as Murtagh cleaved Oromis's back open. The next image was of Arya and Saphira riding towards the Empire only to lead to Arya's capture. Eragon yelled, "No!" All he could think of in that moment was saving Arya from experiencing any pain, he wanted to save Saphira from the torture Galbatorix would put her through. His fear and love for them overwhelmed him as he felt the cleansing power flow through his veins. His image's grin faded as he lost his power. From the corner of his eye he could see Arya triumph over her captors and Saphira take out both Thorn and Shruikan. He could see Arya kill the evil King and his love for them provided him with the power to defeat his image. Eragon whirled around in a series of intricate poses. He fought with the strength of one hundred elves and his evil image quailed under his newfound strength. His love for Arya and Saphira fueled his power. The image tried to attack back, but he was too slow, the blade met with solid ground and Eragon ran up the blade and back flipped so his foot would collide with his image's face. The sword went flying and Eragon pierced his image's heart with his only thought of having Arya and Saphira succeed in their battles. Eragon pulled his sword from the chest of his image, his battle was done. The image stood up and said, "You have passed this test. These tests were not designed to challenge your abilities, but your mental strength. The first challenged your ability to think on your feet as well as become prepared for the ability to take on the next unlocking of powers. The second was to evaluate your reasons for fighting. Those who don't have a personal reason to fight for, a real moral reason, will inevitably become corrupt as they do not have an anchor to hold them down. This was a test to determine what emotions you feed off of when you fight. What separates you from a killing animal is the mindset. If you go in with thought of killing because they are attacking you or again for self-serving purposes or even emotions like anger, there is no difference between you and the evil. But if you go into a battle knowing that you fight for the greater good, for those you will die to protect, those like Arya Drottningu or Saphira, then your motives are pure. Your anger gave me power, your love gave you power and you were able to best me, you were able to best the evil inside you. The last test will test your intelligence, the way is over there. Good luck Shadeslayer, do not let me take over your mind. Your anger is more powerful than you know."

Exhausted from his fight he wearily headed to the next passageway. To his surprise he saw nothing on the walls, but he thought nothing of it and stumbled into the next and final room. He saw no one, so he walked into the center of the room and stood. Suddenly the room vibrated with power as spirits circled around him, the ground shook as chairs that rose to tower fifteen feet above him. They were positioned in a circle and around him were all the ancestors of the Grey Folk, including his father who was smiling down on him. They all fell from their seats and stood in front of him. They spoke simultaneously, "Eragon this is you last test, a test of you intelligence, if you can answer this question then you have truly learned the teachings of these trials. The question is: What is the meaning of the paintings on the walls?"

Eragon was again at a loss for words, he almost looked around to see if Arya was there because that seemed to be the only time he had literally nothing to say. So he thought back to what he saw. He remembered the magical things, the origins of magic perhaps, then he saw the creatures taking over the land, and then the people of Alagaesia fighting each other, and then he saw nothing. He had his answer. "The meaning of the paintings is to portray the psychology of people. In the beginning there is a created power, and then all the races join to master that power and conquer a common enemy, but after that enemy has been defeated, the races turn against each other and fight for more power. In the end, there is nothing left, absolutely nothing, no power, no love, nothing of anything." He paused before he continued, "The meaning of the paintings it show the importance of unity among the people, and the importance of equally dividing power and most importantly creating a system where each of the races is dependent on the other for something or the other."

"I am proud of you my son, you have truly proven yourself worthy of the power of a Grey Folk. I also ask your forgiveness for not telling you the truth of yourself. I understand of you can't forgive me, but I want you to know that your mother and I loved you very much. I was always proud to call you my son, and I longed to hear you call me Father."

Tears formed in Eragon's eyes, "There is no need to ask my forgiveness, I understand Father, and I want you to know that I love you too. I will always love you Father."

Brom closed his eyes and let the tears drip down before smiling widely at his son, "Thank you."

Anurin spoke next, "You have proven yourself worthy of the powers of the Grey Folk, we will now work to release the seal that locks your powers away."

Eragon felt that same colored waves of energy flowing through his body but this time he felt them beating at a place right over his heart. He felt the something being slowly undone and then the power broke free and he felt liberated. "Goodbye Eragon, you will accomplish great things in your life, you have the power to save the world and all those you care for in it."

He felt a bright hot, blue light emit from the inside of his body and a strong voice he assumed was Vraels, _You have passed, but the greatest measure of pure heart is not the intent with which you gain the powers, but with the intent you keep when using these powers. Remember Eragon, remember your true purpose is not the kill the king, but to save Alagaesia. _The voice faded from his mind and Eragon suddenly found he was himself outside of Oromis's hut with the his surroundings empty. His armor was changed, instead of the usual blue, there was a hint of a bright blue flame that ran through the metal, and instead of the usual chain mail, the armor was protected much like his Rider's blade, and was of a lighter metal, but stronger than any elven or dwarven made metal. He closed his eyes and saw that his power had increased one hundred fold, he could now if he willed burn the earth from where he stood and bring down the Empire from where he stood, but first and foremost in his mind was seeing Arya and Saphira. He search Ellesmera for their minds and found them by the Menoa Tree.

Chapter eleven: A bittersweet reunion.

He ran as fast as he could, which was significantly faster than before and appeared in front of them. As soon as she him, Saphira bellowed her delight and bounced over to him pinned him down and licking his face, _I missed you little one, I am so glad you are back._ Eragon scratched her ear and replied _I am glad to be back to, I can't tell how many times you saved me, how many times your memories saved me. _He gave her a long hug, tears forming in his eyes at seeing his other half of his soul after such a long time. 

Saphira let Eragon back up, her snout nuzzling his neck. Eragon smiled and held her again, happy to have her mind in his again. He turned and walked over to Arya who stood frozen in the same spot she was in when she saw him first. She whispered, "Is this a dream?" a tear rolled down her face, "Please tell me now, I have gone through the torture of dreaming that you came home to me, and then waking up alone, please break it to me easily." Tears now flowed from her face more freely. Eragon could not stand her tears, so he leaned in moved his mouth over her tears and over her eyes to catch any that might fall. His hands snuck under her thick midnight black soft long hair. He gently pulled her hair back, lifted her head up and replied, "Arya, iet nuanen Drottningu, this is no dream. I have succeeded and from now on, when you wake up, I will be beside you. That I promise. Please stop your tears, I can face the most dangerous of enemies, but I am defenseless against your tears. I will never leave you again. I love you Arya, forever and always." Arya brought her hands to cup his face, "It really is you." She ran her hands over his armor and said the words to take it off. Eragon's armor fell away at her command and he felt Arya throw herself at him gripping him so tightly he had trouble breathing. "Arya..I told you I would come ba-…" Arya silenced his moving lips by kissing him.

She was desperate to feel her Eragon, her Rider, her love again. "Eragon, my love, I missed you so much, I felt like a part of me died without you next to me. I fought, I did my work, but I was mechanic, I had no emotions, you gave those to me and when you left, you took them with you, I can't be me without you, Eragon, there is no me without you. I love you, l love you so much." She moved her lips fervently against his, their kiss never ending. "You saved me Arya, my memories of you saved me every single time I felt like giving up. You were there every time I needed you to be and I swear that I will be here anytime you need me to be." Arya continued to kiss him, tears streaming down her face. Eragon pulled back and wiped her beautiful face from any evidence of strife before gently lowering his lips again to her to briefly seal his promise with a kiss. He enveloped Arya in his arms and she went willingly to her favorite place of lying her cheek next his beating heart so that Eragon could lay his head down on top of hers comfortably. Eragon kissed the top of her head before easily lifting her on Saphira, and holding onto Arya tightly in his lap, he told Saphira, _I have missed flying Saphira. _

_Just as I have missed my Rider on my back, shall we delay no longer?_

_We shall._ And with the familiar beat of her wings Saphira was off in the air. Eragon glanced down at Arya to see her face obscured by her falling hair. He gently pulled her hair and tucked it behind her ear before returning his arms around her slender body. She glanced up at him and kissed the underside of his jaw. He looked down and kissed her again. He missed her taste of roses and her scent of pine cones. He simply missed her and part of him couldn't believe that he was holding her at that instant. _ Saphira, we should go to the Queen, but we need to speak with Glaedr first. _

_There is no need to call me Eragon-finarel. I was always here. I am glad to see that you have succeeded in you goal, you are most definitely more powerful than you left. Your strength has increased many fold. You should go see the mother of your mate before we continue our conversation though. _

_As you wish Glaedr –elda. _

He looked down at Arya and asked her, "How long was I gone for?" She weakly replied clutching his collar, "three weeks, I didn't see you for three weeks."

"I'm sorry Arya, I had no sense of time in that place. If I could had known, I would have tried to finish earlier."

"I know you would have Eragon, I am just glad that I have you beside me now."

Eragon smiled at her before returning his arms to form a fortress around the body of his beloved elven princess. They landed shortly after in front of Tialdari Hall. Hand in hand Eragon and Arya walked. The Queen hurried down the stairs from her council's meeting to behold the site of her daughter's mate. She flew down the stairs with a practiced grace. Eragon touched two fingers to his lips but was greeted instead with a hug from the Elven Queen. "Eragon – finarel, it is truly great to have you back. You have given all of us hope by simply being here."

"You honor me with your words, thank you, your majesty, it is truly wonderful to be back among those I love dearly."

The Queen merely nodded, and said, "Not that I want to stop your reunion, but I must remind you that Oromis and Glaedr's funeral will be held in a week from yesterday."

"Thank you for telling me, my Queen, I will make all the proper arrangements."

He turned around to head back outside, but the Queen called him back.

"Eragon-" he turned, "Thank you for coming back, I was afraid I was going to lose my daughter again."

"Your majesty, I would never let your daughter be lost, even if it means fighting death. I will find a way to come back to your daughter. I love her too much to be without her."

With his confession of the depth of his feelings for Arya, he took her hand, laced his fingers with hers and walked outside Tialdari Hall and got on Saphira and left to his tree house. It was close to night, and he was tired from his adventures. He found his armor where Arya had removed it from him and said a spell to send it to his house. They landed softly and Eragon got off with Arya close behind him. He went to the bathroom and rid himself of his sweaty clothes and stepped in the hot water. Arya followed in after him and kneeled down at the edge of the tub. He didn't mind, he was her mate after all. He simply took his hand and stroked her cheek with this thumb. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She removed one of her hands that she resting her head on and went to stroke the side of her beloved's face. "I'll get the dinner ready, I don't think you had much to eat there."

Eragon watched her go and smiled. He cleaned the grime and blood off of his body, put on a new set of clothes and walked out. He saw that Arya had already set the table, complete with dinner and a bottle of faelnirv. She stared at him intently. "Did Saphira say where she went?"

Arya smiled before replying, "Saphira said that she lost her appetite these last few weeks, so she didn't really eat much. She suddenly said she was hungry and took off."

Eragon nodded his head and took his place next to her. Arya gave him his special smile before starting to eat her food. They ate dinner in silence, grateful to be with each other again. When Arya finished, she scooted her chair closer to Eragon's and leaned her head on his arm and laced her fingers with his. Eragon could tell she was distressed, so he prodded, "What's wrong?"

Arya smiled and answered, "Nothing. I'm just glad you are here." She knew he could tell she was lying, but she was grateful he didn't press the issue. "Let's go for a walk, Eragon."

"Where do you want to go?"

"The gardens at Tialdari Hall."

They cleaned up the plates and walked out of the tree house together. Eragon curved his arm around Arya's waist, she leaned against him and took his other hand in hers. They leisurely walked from their home to Tialdari Hall, not caring if all the other elves were watching them or not. They arrived at the gardens and Arya let go of Eragon's hand before turning and facing him.

"There is much we need to talk about Eragon."

"I figured as much, Arya, you have been quiet lately, and it was not a good silence either. What is the matter?"

"As soon as Oromis's funeral takes place, we must go back to the Varden as you know. However, after we go to the Varden, I will undertake a mission that leads a small group of elven warriors into the heart of the Empire in an attempt to steal the last egg. It is the most opportune time, as Galbatorix will not be paying much attention."

Eragon's heart sank at her words. He hated the idea, but kept his mouth shut trying to find a strategic flaw with the plan because he knew Arya would not listen if he just said that he didn't want her to go. "How can you be sure that Galbatorix will not be paying attention?"

"Because at that time, the Varden will commence the fight on the Empire's capital in Uru'Baen. The full frontal attack will provide the cover we need to get the egg out, after we have secured the egg, we will retreat, or if the battle is on our favor, we will press on."

"And if the full frontal attack goes haywire, and we try to retreat and we are followed, what then?"

"We need to take risks, every mission has a risk, and this is the biggest risk of all, but we need to get the egg to have a chance at winning."

"Arya, you know I am completely opposed to this idea-"

"Eragon! Just because we are mates and we love each other does not mean we have the luxury of running away and forgetting that we are in a war. We have a duty to perform and we must do it. You don't think that I break every time I see you hurt or embarking on another dangerous mission. You wanting to protect me is noble, yes, but we cannot afford to let our emotions get in the way of a mission. I am not some human woman, incapable of protecting herself, I am an elf, and one of the finest warriors among the elves as well."

Eragon walked up to his princess and gently placed his arms around her. She fought a little, but eventually settled in his embrace. Eragon lifted his head slowly, kissed the side of her head and whispered in her ear, "I know that you are not some weakling to be locked up in a tower protected. I, more than anyone, know exactly how strong you are; it is your strength that saved me many times. Yes, Arya, I love you and I hate seeing you in danger as much as you hate seeing me in danger. While I cannot say that my suggestion was based on logic, void of emotions, I can say that I have a reason for the entire mission being unnecessary. I am much stronger now Arya. I do not doubt that I have a fighting chance again Galbatorix. I am much more powerful than Vrael, Anurin, or my father. Let Glaedr – elda reassess my powers, and if he does not think that I can beat Galbatorix, then by all means, lead the mission and I will pray to whatever power it pertains to that you will come home safe to me. But if Glaedr-elda does believe that I can best the tyrant, then on that same day, I will ride to his palace and engage him in a battle. That way, we have no more need of a war."

"And if something happens to you, and you don't come back to me? What is the difference of you putting yourself in danger and me being in danger? Don't you think I won't be opposed to this idea?"

"I know Arya, but you will be there with me the entire time, on your mission, I can't be with you. Unless Nasuada replaces one of the elves in your lead with me."

"We shall take both ideas to her after Glaedr assesses your powers."

"Thank you iet Drottningu."

Arya sighed, "Our relationship truly is hindering our duties."

"No, Arya, it is not, I would still have voiced my concerns if we were not mated. You are a vital ambassador, a powerful spellcaster, a strong leader and warrior, not to mention the princess of the Elves. If something were to happen to you, the Varden would lose one of their leaders and most likely lose their connections with the Elves as you are the only reason they even have a connection in the first place. Our love for each other is making us stronger, not weaker, we just have one more reason to fight for and stay alive. Please don't ever think that we are hindering each other. I felt like giving up a thousand times during my fights, but I thought of you and Saphira and I pressed on. You gave me the strength, you have always given me the strength to succeed."

"Thank you for your kind words Eragon. Forgive me, I didn't think of undermining the strength of our love with these concerns."

"Iet nuanen, will you never learn to stop apologizing to me? You could never say anything to me that would even warrant an apology. There is never a need to forgive you, you have never done wrong by me."

Arya smiled before returning to his embrace and wrapping her arms tightly against his warm body. Truly, she never felt so cared for before. Faolin had demanded proof of their love. He had never trusted her words, but she was too naïve to think that it was a fault in their relationship. But Eragon demanded nothing from her, not even her love. She had given everything freely, and he was happy with taking whatever she gave him. All he wanted was her happiness, the only difference was that now, he had no qualms of showing her exactly how much he loved her. She smiled at the knowledge before placing her lips against neck and walking around the gardens for a little while longer.

"Eragon, we should get back to our home. Glaedr-elda will need to test your strength tomorrow and you need to be well-rested. Is Saphira home yet?"

"Yes, she settled in just a few seconds ago."

"Then let's head back as soon as possible."

Arya broke into a sprint, instantly missing the warmth of his body, but she nevertheless pressed on. Eragon smiled at the challenge and took off after her. He easily caught up and ran ahead of her, but he suddenly saw an erotic picture of Arya and him in his bed in the tree house. He stumbled and fell over causing Arya to win the race. He got up and walked the rest of the short distance to his stairs. Eragon stopped inches from Arya's face and raised his eyebrow.

Arya knew she shouldn't have distracted him, but to her credit, she had no idea that such a tactic would be that much of a distraction. His reaction continued to make her laugh, and with his face in such a comical pose she couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"I had absolutely no idea my mate was so innovative."

Arya laughingly replied, "I didn't k-know you woul-dd f-fall at the ima-age I sent-t you, I th-thought it would just s-slow you down-n a bit."

He sighed in mock exasperation and smiled at her, "There should be no doubt as to exactly how attracted I am to you Arya. Images like that torture me in a new kind of way."

Arya laughed at his confession before kissing him lightly and walking up the stairs. She was a little distraught at her own actions as well, the old Arya, even the Arya with Faolin would never attempt something so extreme. The Arya that would have done something like that was the one that defied her mother's wishes at every turn, the Arya that was in her teenage years. Whether or not her behavior was a good thing, she wasn't sure, but she was sure that only Eragon would be able to bring out that long lost side of her.

As they walked in the door, Saphira lifted her head and Eragon quickly walked over and embraced her. _Little one, it is good to have you home again. I fell asleep far too many times with only Arya to protect under my wing. _

_I know, I walked for too many days without feeling safe because you weren't there. I cannot believe it has been three weeks since I left. I just kept walking and fighting that I couldn't tell what was going on. _

_I understand little one, get some rest, we will celebrate your success tomorrow. _

Eragon changed into a softer tunic and felt pants for sleeping. Arya did the same, but in the bathroom and they both crawled under Saphira wing close to her belly as to feel the warmth of her fire. Saphira's wing wrapped around the two of them before she fell asleep. Eragon turned his head to Arya and toyed with her hair before retracting his hand and resorting to gaze in her eyes. She returned his gaze but lowered her eyes as she placed her hand directly on his yawe. Eragon covered her hand with his before bringing her hand to his lips. He leaned in closer and captured her lips with his for a passionate kiss not relenting his grip on her hand. He pulled away taking Arya's hand and gently turning her over so that her back was facing him. He curved his body around hers, marveling at how perfectly they fit together, and wrapped his strong arms around her.

Arya shuddered as all the cold left her body, unable to survive with Eragon's warmth. He held her tightly, but gently. She slightly turned her head and Eragon lifted his head to kiss her one last time before returning his head down. Arya snuggled against his body and placed her arm over the one covering her body. They soon fell asleep with no troubling dreams.

Chapter Twelve: Recalculation

_Rise and shine little ones. Glaedr-elda wishes to commence the evaluation as soon as possible. _

Eragon and Arya groaned at Saphira's wake up call. Being unable to rest properly for the past three weeks, they were having a hard time getting up from the one good night's rest they deserved. Nevertheless, they got out of bed. Eragon had some trouble figuring out the positions on his new armor. His old one required a mail suit underneath, but this one had nothing of the sort. Also, all of the plates were more fluidly put together than his other boxy sort of armor. Seeing his trouble, Arya walked over and set his armor for him. The armor fit his body perfectly and once Arya fixed it on, Eragon noticed he was able to move much more freely with the new armor. They molded to fit his body and fighting style.

Arya couldn't help but be attracted to Eragon in his new armor. Unlike his old armor, this one had curved around his muscle while outlining his strong arms. Instead of being covered and hidden in his old armor, this one exemplified his strength and power by emphasizing the size and tone of his muscular body. Eragon smiled as he felt how perfectly the armor fit his body. He walked over and gave Arya a small kiss and said, "Thank you." before gathering his sword and walking to the training grounds close to Oromis's hut.

_Ah Eragon, we are finally ready to see your progress. Since none of the Grey Folk had anyone to spar well with, they often had a creation or imitation of themselves as a substitute. Because we do not know the extent of your powers, I would like to try this method with you as well. _

_As you wish Glaedr-elda. _

Eragon said the words in the Ancient Language that made a fightable copy of himself. While his other did not have a face, the body structure and stature was the exact same of Eragon's. Eragon's other drew his blade and engaged him in a battle. The Rider quickly felt the difference in his power. He could strike faster, harder, and more precisely than before. His sword, if it also had not been changed with the magic of the Grey Folk, would have undoubtedly broken with Eragon's fighting style. Eragon felt a new magic surge through his body, a source that he had only felt when lighting his sword on fire.

_Eragon, I am more powerful than this. I can give you the power to overcome you opponent, all you must do is use me. _

_Who are you? _

_I am a part of you, I reside in your sword, an amplification of your powers that can be put into an object of your use. But I am like a dragon as well, I have my own powers that can increase yours as well. I am separate entity, yet I am a part of you. Just like Saphira. Together, the three of us have a power to vanquish any enemy in our way. _

_What do I do to call upon your power? _

_You must call my name and unlock my power. _

_How?  
_

_Only you can discover the answer to that Rider, but I will wait for and spring at the moment you call. _

Eragon continued to fight for well over a half an hour with his double, the entire time he felt this rising power straining to be released. His sword looked like it was about to burst in flames hot enough to burn even the hottest of entities. Then he knew what his sword's name was.

"Eldrvarya du solus, Könungr abr brisingr!" (Burn the sun, King of Fire!)

_You shall feel a power like never before. _

Eragon's sword emitted a bright blue flame before the grip changed into a two handed. From the hilt grew another fantastically blue blade emitting the same bright blue flame. After the transformation was complete, the double edged blade produced a blazing fire of the same color. Eragon heard Arya gasp somewhere behind him, but he did not pay attention. Eragon began twirling his new blade with two hands, then one hand and then gained enough skill with his blade to twirl it between hands. He soon was able to master the art of a double-edged sword. He quickly overpowered his double and struck his body shattering him in millions of pieces. The blue fire died out quickly and his blade returned to normal.

_You have used me well, I am proud to be your sword and your power. _

_Thank you, Könungr abr Brisingr. I am honored to call you my blade. _

_Eragon – finarel? _

_Yes Glaedr-elda?_

_You have improved considerably. Well done, I highly doubt King could best you in a match of sword play. However, Galbatorix has other means of power, so I must judge you in your abilities in magic and strength of your mental barriers. Are you well enough to continue your assessment. _

_Yes elda, I am quite well. _

_Very well, the first task I will have you do is to grow a garden of delois and an orchid of haldthin. _

_Very well. _

Eragon quickly completed the tasks of growing gardens and trees with little drain on his energy. Soon after, he was ordered to create a divide in the vast ocean for one hundred miles. Eragon completed this along with other tasks of summoning the essence of green, silver, and mercury from various substances. His master had one last task for him however.

_Eragon, this is the last thing I will ask you to do with your magic. You must separate that mountain from its position, and lift it over a mile high. However, then you must control the movements so that it is in the correct spot and mold the rock back together so that the mountain will return to its original state. _

_As you wish elda. _

Truthfully, Eragon did not know if he would be able to attempt such a feat, but he nonetheless tried. Lifting the mountain was harder than he expected. He felt a significant amount of drain on his energy, but he continued anyway. After lifted the enormous chunk of rock off the ground for a mile, he braced himself before lowering the mountain top back to its place and commanding the rock to reincorporate itself to its original state. Feeling proud of his accomplishments, Eragon smiled and let the relief show on his face.

_Little one, you truly are much more powerful than expected. I doubt even the King with his eldunari could be able to mimic that feat. _

_Thank you Saphira. I do feel like we have a better fighting chance. _

_Eragon, Saphira is right, you have increased your power many times. Even the most powerful Riders I doubt could have done that task. The last assessment as I have told you before is your mental barrier strength. All the power in the world is useless if the King grabs a hold of your mind. I do believe Arya is best suited for testing this task as she already knows all your weak points in your barriers. _

_Yes elda. _

_Arya Drottningu? _

Arya was in awe at the feats she had seen Eragon complete. No elf, Rider, or Dragon had even come close to completing those tasks in as quick of a succession as Eragon and none who attempted performed them with such perfection. Eragon's increase in skill and power in his swordplay was very impressive as well. She doubted that any warrior in the land would be able to best Eragon in a duel. But the fact that Arya did not fear him told her more about the man she loved than anything else. She doubted even she could withstand the pulls of power, but she had no doubt that Eragon could prevent himself to incorrectly use him powers.

_And there you would be wrong._ Arya snapped her eyes up to look at Eragon with a puzzling look before he continued, _I have no doubt that all the power in the world could corrupt a heart and mind as beautiful and pure as yours Arya. _She smiled at Eragon's words before realizing that Eragon had stayed in her mind the entire time. She was becoming so used to his presence that she didn't feel unnatural when he was a shadow in her head.

"Eragon, we need to close each other's minds off if we are going to assess you properly."

"Yes, Arya."

_Drottningu, I need you to powerfully attack his mind, he is under orders not to attack you, only defend himself. I fear his power is far greater than we can imagine, his skills and power is far greater than I would have expected. I have a feeling his barriers and mental attacks will be as well. _

_Yes Glaedr, I will do as you say. _

Arya found Eragon's mind in a mere nanosecond. She gently observed his barriers before piercing at his wall so strongly is caused Saphira to cringe. Eragon, however, remained unaffected. Arya's attack started draining her of energy, but her love's barriers wouldn't budge, she stopped her attack knowing that if she kept it up much longer, she would be drained of energy as well.

"His barriers are the strongest I have ever seen." she answered truthfully.

_Good, Eragon, we have finished your assessment and I have deemed at a level able to fight the Empire and win. _

_Thank you Glaedr-elda. _

_I will talk to you soon. _

Eragon turned to Arya and let his barriers down so she could easily enter his mind before slipping quietly into hers. He immediately breathed easier with her presence saving him from the brink of insanity. As soon as he felt her familiar mind in his, he breathed easier.

"Eragon…" Arya hesitated, "…your power is unimaginable. I don't understand. How can you be so powerful? How did you become so powerful?"

"To be honest Arya, I don't fully comprehend the process. However, from what I gathered in my experiences is that I was always this powerful, but as a safety mechanism for the world, the powers were locked away by magic so strong that only other Grey Folk could have unlocked the seal. The key required the blood of a Grey Folk, meaning my blood needed to have traces of that power in order to activate and open the door. Once I went through the room, I was faced with a series of tests that shed light on the moral reasons as to why I fight. For example, when they poisoned my body, I thought about fighting on for Saphira and for you. When a manifestation of the evil in me showed me how the people I love were or could have been killed, I either kept on fighting for revenge and anger or for love. The only reason why I won that challenge is because I feared that you or Saphira would die and not wanting to see that because of how much I loved you, I fought with that emotion for most in my mind. I love you, and my power is a testimony to that. I was found worthy of having my powers unlocked because of Saphira and because of you. I owe you both my life and my success."

_Little one, will you now at least believe that you are not evil, or even capable of evil._

_No Saphira, I am capable of more evil than you know._

_This was a test for you moral convictions and you passed. How is there a question of your morality?_

_My reasons for fighting right now is to protect all I love, and those I love the most are you Saphira and Arya. If something were to happen to you, and I would be unable to save either of you, my true essence will change. If either of you were to leave me I would turn into a man so evil that Galbatorix will be looked on as a God. You both have the power to turn me evil, it is your love that is keeping me as a moral man. _

_Eragon, love, I am afraid that I am making you weaker. If I didn't admit my love for you, then you wouldn't be so affected if something were to happen to me. It's because of the nature of our relationship that my death would affect you so. _

_Arya, I love you, whether or not you love me back, I love you, as so no matter if we kiss at night or I go to bed alone thinking of you, if you were taken from me, I would turn into a monster. You make me stronger, the fact that you love me gives both Saphira and I a reason to keep fighting. It shows us that there are still people worth fighting for, there is still something worth fighting for, and for us, Arya, that something is you, for now and ever. _

Arya stared at the man before her. He was no child, couldn't be considered even be considered a teenager. He lived in this earth for a mere nineteen years, yet his eyes had seen horrors that five hundred year old elves would never imagined seeing. The Rider she fell in love with became a man long before he ever had the choice. Arya knew he spoke the truth, it was the same truth that she had denied herself his love so many months ago during the Blood – Oath celebration. At first, she was blinded because she thought it was weakness, but now she could truly understand the power behind true love, Eragon's love. Arya swiftly walked over to him and forcefully captured his lips with hers.

She wasn't in a gentle mood, and Eragon could definitely tell. Her mouth moved over his in a rougher way, no longer were her lips slow moving or her kiss sweet, she was demanding. Not that he minded, but just an observation on his part as he will always be unable to observe anything else but her if they're in the same room. Saphira growled and they broke apart. Eragon smiled at his great dragon, an expression of love unattainable on any other man. The emotions he felt for the dragon in front of him and the elf beside him were inexplicable, so he didn't even try to find its depth. He turned to look at Arya to see that she was breathing harder with a tinge of red tingling her cheeks. Simply kissing the tip of her nose, Eragon led her to Saphira and in a matter of seconds they were off.

_Arya? Saphira?_ _We need to contact Nasuada and tell her about the situation, now that Galbatorix is determined to be weaker than me, we should ask about the change in plans. _

_Aye, we should. _

They entered Tialdari Hall and called Nasuada on the srcying bowl. Her face appeared and she was in the middle of council mettings.

"Ah there you guys are. What took you so long to contact me?"

"Forgive me, milady, I had some pressing business to take care of. However, everything has paid off, my master has now deemed me more powerful than the Galbatorix as a result of some power that I have achieved. There is no need to prolong a confrontation. We can attack the Empire and I can engage him in battle and kill him."

"Yes, Eragon, however, has your new power been tested in battle?"

"Well, obviously not milady, but I have been sparring and my spellcasting powers tested considerably and I am far stronger."

"That may be the case, however, I won't take that chance when dealing with the Empire and its armies. That being said, the Varden is far too weak. If killing the king was the only goal then we could let you ride to battle, however, we need to be able to beat those brainwashed soldiers as well. The Varden does not have many soldiers that have the strength to take on those regiments. Only some ten thousand versus one hundred thousand."

"Then we use the strength of the Urgals and the Kull. They are far stronger than any man in the Varden, and they are the strongest of Urgals as well. They will have no problem defeating those soldiers. Or even the elves, however, considering the fighting style of those soldiers, I do believe the Kull will match them in our favor."

"Nevertheless, we shall not ride in battle as soon as you arrive. The mission with Arya is far too important."

"I told Shadeslayer about the mission Nasuada and he has expressed interest in coming as well. I do believe that if he does come, then he can have a chance to explore his new power and optimize the results. There is no need to worry for his life, if by chance things take a bad turn, then Eragon is far more powerful and he can escape."

_I'm not leaving you Arya, even if things take a bad turn. If I must fight the king, then I will to make sure you are all right. _

_Eragon, now is not the time, I am well aware of what you will do to save me. I would do the same, but do you want to come on the mission or not? The truth is that you do need to test your powers in a battle type scenario, but the greater truth is that I don't want to be separated for that long from you, and that being said, the elves have no better spellcaster than you or warrior for that matter. _

_You honor me Arya. _

"Very well, that can be arranged. Arya, I shall look at your company of elves once more and see whose spot Eragon can take. Saphira, however, will not be able to accompany you."

"Yes, my liege, I gathered as much. Thank you."

With that, the two lovers closed their conversation with the young Varden leader.

"Well, Shurtugal, you get your way after all. You are to be accompanying me on a mission to find the last egg."

"Should we have let Nasuada know that we are mates, or even let the other elves in the Varden know that we are mates?"

"That I am not so sure about, Nasuada would not be a problem, however, after this mission is over because she might take you off in the guise of being a distraction. As far as the other elves, because my mother accepted it, they are forced to, they won't be a problem."

"In that case, nuanen drottningu, we will wait to tell the Varden. I am afraid that I will be busy preparing for Oromis-elda's funeral, however, I promise you that I will be at home each night."

Arya smiled and nodded, "In that case, I will wait for you each night."

Eragon bowed deeply and turned to walk away. But as soon as he walked two steps away, he determinedly walked back and kissed Arya breathless. He closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against hers. He remained locked in that position for sometime before slowly opening his eyes and smiling. He captured her lips far more gently the second time and then turned away from her as if afraid he would never be able to leave her side if he stayed any longer. Saphira was waiting outside for him. He ran out to her and scratched the back of her ears before smiling and getting on her back.

Arya watched as Eragon turned away from her for the second time. The passion and love in his eyes were unbearable. She couldn't tell him how much he meant to her, she could only bask in his love. It rendered her unable to function with his love professed so profoundly in front of her. Nevertheless, she decided to get on with her work, as Eragon was attempting to get on with his. Arya didn't attempt to hide the smile from entering her face. She was healed completely inside, she was finally able to face the world without the sinking feeling of sadness or depression. Arya was about to leave her old home when she was stopped by her mother.

"Arya I would like to talk to you."

"Of course mother, where would you like to go?"

"The gardens"

Arya walked with her mother to her favorite place in all of Ellesmera bracing herself for the conversation to come.

Chapter Thirteen: A Rift rebreached

"Arya, I know of your feelings for the Rider as you have agreed to take him as a mate. However, I am concerned for you. I want to make sure that you aren't making a mistake by choosing him. I have observed your behavior and moods well before Eragon and even now, and frankly I don't like what I see. Before Eragon, you were strong, disciplined, and controlled. You never let your emotions get the better of you and you maintained your composure. Now you are far too emotional to be an ambassador, let alone a leader of a hit team or for that matter the future Queen of elves. I am worried that Eragon is making you weaker and I don't see this as a positive relationship."

Arya was fuming. She let her anger show through before speaking, "Mother, how dare you even consider that Eragon is weakening me. Do you know why I was in control of my emotions before, because I had none. I didn't care whether or not I died or whether or not you died for that matter. I had no reason to live except the fact that Father would have wanted peace again. Eragon…Eragon gives me hope, he gives me everything, he gives me my emotions back. Had it not been for Eragon I wouldn't have even bothered arguing with you, I wouldn't let you see any part of me except the one you want to see. You have never known me. He makes me stronger, strong enough to show my emotions and let my opinions be heard. You made me weaker in your punishments and your comments of my behavior. You are my downfall, never him. He can never be my downfall. I am finally confident enough to show exactly who I am to the world. Yes, mother I get emotional. I am not a stone, and I do fear every time he goes to battle because I am afraid that he won't come back and I will again be left in this world alone. I felt that before as well, the only difference is instead of wallowing in my misery, I share my burden and we both become stronger. I love him, he is my mate for life. And for the record, I asked him to be my mate. He makes me feel protected and loved, something I haven't felt in any place since Father died."

With the last of her words, Arya strode out of the gardens and ran straight to Eragon's tree house. She was in absolute rage. She sat in the center of their bed and worked to calm herself to no avail. She waited for Eragon to come home, knowing that she couldn't possibly go looking for him at this time, but neither could she go anywhere else. Eragon finished creating the preparations for the ceremony and ground up the flower petals to create the paint colors he needed. He felt a sudden change in his mindset – primal fury entered and he had no idea of where its source was, until he remembered Arya never left his mind unless absolutely necessary, and he never left hers like Saphira barely left his. Eragon looked to Saphira who knew exactly what she was thinking:

_Something extremely unnerving must have happened for Arya to be in this kind of mood. I have never seen her so angry. _

_I have, and its only after one event. _

_And that would be? _

_An angry conversation with her mother. _

_Do you think she wants to be disturbed right now? _

_I refuse to leave her alone like this. She never should be this angry and she is crying on our bed. I can't bear to see her hurt Saphira. _

_I know Eragon, I don't like seeing her this way either. She needs help now more than ever. _

Eragon dropped softly down from Saphira's back and looked at his princess's tear stricken face. Concern and love etched in his features, he slowly padded towards her and sat down next to her. He lifted her head so that she was gazing into his eyes. He didn't ask questions, he didn't need to. All that mattered was that Arya was upset and he would do anything to make her mood better. He brushed his thumb across her face wiping away the tears. Eragon leaned in and gently kissed her until she responded. He pulled away and easily lifted her so that she was resting against his body. Wrapping his arms around her, he began to stroke her hair soothingly.

Arya eventually stopped crying. Not wanting to leave his warmth, Arya stayed there with her eyes closed hoping he wouldn't move. He didn't and they both just lay there until the sun rose the next morning. Arya awoke refreshed and energized. To her dismay, Eragon was not beside her, he was already making breakfast. He gave her a heart-stopping smile and she practically glided over to him. She stopped dangerously close to his lips, capturing every released breath of his. Eragon place a small kiss on her lips, but she wasn't satisfied. He sat down and motioned for her to sit as well. So, she sat on his lap. Eragon sighed mockingly with a defeated smile before kissing her with much more passion and far longer than his previous one.

He didn't want to press the issue, but he knew it would come up one time or another. "Arya, what happened last night? Your anger was great enough that it exploded through my head. I know the only thing that makes you that angry is your mother. Did she say anything?"

"She always says something Eragon." Clearly not satisfied with her answer, he raised an eyebrow and looked at her with a much more quizzical look, "What did she say this time?"

"This time, this time she criticized my behavior as being far too outwardly emotional, to my mate mind you, and she said she believed that our relationship was weakening me."

Eragon sighed and looked at her more intently. "What did you say?"

"That you make me stronger."

_Arya, whose words do you believe? _

_Eragon, of course I believe my own, you make me stronger that is the truth. _

_Then why were you so angry before? If you believed your own words, then why are you angry, surely the reason is not that you were angry about the topic she chose to criticize you with. _

_Yes, you are right, it is the fact that she even said anything about me makes me angry. She said I was not fit to be a Queen or even an ambassador. And why are we communicating like this? _

_Because it is a much more honest and intimate way of conversation and you seem to relax much more when you feel my presence in your mind. _

_True, in both cases. She doesn't think very highly of me Eragon, and I hate to admit it, but she is my mother and I do care what she thinks. _

_I know, honey, and I'm sorry. Your mother never should have said that you weren't fit to be a leader. You have more leadership qualities in you than she could ever know. But most importantly, you genuinely care as to what happens to your people. _

_My mother cares as well. _

_But not enough to take initiative as you have to become ambassador for the elves and risk your relationship with her for the greater good of the peoples of Alagaesia. She does out of necessity what you do out of fighting for the greater good. _

_Thank you Eragon, your words are a solace and thank you for coming to me. I didn't expect that you would be home so soon, but now I realize you came back early to make sure I was alright. I trust you were at least somewhat done with your work for the day. _

_Hmm, not in the least, but fortunately I got everything that takes time to develop and be prepared, so it wasn't a big deal. Everything else can be done tomorrow. Speaking of which, what are you making as a contribution to Oromis-elda and Glaedr – elda's ceremony. What does the royal family do? _

_You are royalty now too. _

_Ah, I hadn't thought about that. What should I do with new status? _

_What do you wish to do? _

_Kiss my mate. _

Arya laughed at him, "You could do that even if you weren't royalty."

"Yes, but I still wish to kiss you."

Arya smiled at him before lowering her lips and capturing his with her own. Eragon pulled her up closer to him so she was straddling his lap. He smiled against her lips before coaxing her mouth open with his tongue. She willingly obliged and they remained locked to each other for what seemed like hours. Eragon pulled away first before admitting, "I hate seeing you hurt Arya, emotionally or physically. I would go through the worst pain to keep you from ever crying again."

"I know Eragon, it's just that my mother has always been a sore spot for me and I can't get over her extremely low opinion she has of me. I'm just glad that you're here for me, before I didn't have anyone."

"So what did you do?"

"Leave the room without saying anything. I would go to my room and engage in some work or another and convince myself that I didn't care what she thought of me. Soon, that became a reality. I really did not care what she thought of me, of what happened to me, or for anything else for that matter."

Eragon nodded, unable to express his grief over her pain. He ran his hands up and down Arya's back and sides hoping she would find some comfort. He leaned forward and gently captured her lips.

"I won't ever put you through that again Arya. Even if everyone leaves you, you will always have me. That is a promise. Upon my word as a Rider, upon my word as your lover."

Arya smiled against his lips and nodded. She knew he would do anything for her, part of her reveled in that, and the other feared exactly how far he would go to keep her safe. But for now, she felt safe in his embrace and for the first time in a very long time, she allowed herself to be held in her Rider's strong arms.

Chapter Fourteen: A rather nasty celebration

Eragon left later that day to continue his painting. Arya had no idea what to do as a memorial for the late old Riders, but she tried to think of ways to honor them. The young disciple mixed his paints carefully and began his intricate work. Eragon was not much of an artist, or so he thought. However, Oromis stumbled upon some of his work as a drawer and painter and suggest that at a later time, he pursue that talent of his. Eragon could think of no better way than to honor his teacher by listening to his advice he had received and incorporate it into his life. Eragon painted a picture of Oromis and Glaedr in their youth, yet matured beyond the ages of teenage Riders. He painted them as whole, complete, and powerful in their wisdom. Oromis wore his elven armor and Glaedr was donned majestically as if going to war. Glaedr was up on his hind legs viciously breathing a long, burning, gold flame. Oromis had his eyes set on his goal and Naegling drawn to show his preparedness for battle. The skies behind Eragon were filled with fighting Dragons and Riders, depicting a time before the Fall. On the other half of the large canvas, Eragon drew an older Oromis and an injured Glaedr. They both were peacefully walking in the forests of Ellesmera. The animals around snuck here and there to catch a glimpse of the great Dragon while Oromis slowly meandered around the woods in his search for something that evaded him. The first picture was menacing, depicting their power and strength. The second was scholarly depicting their wisdom and tranquility. Satisfied with his work, Eragon left to determine how to pay his respects to his old master in a Rider's way.

The day of the funeral came by quickly. Arya and her mother were already wearing the colors of black to show their mourning. As a rider, however, Eragon wore white to symbolize the peace that his master's soul would be at. Eragon had Brisingr at his side and Glaedr's eldunari in a pack underneath his tunic invisible to all. He took his seat by his mate and smiled at her.

Arya could see that he was hurting, but she knew better than to take him away from the celebrations and protect him from whatever grief he was feeling. He needed closure and so did she for that matter. She took his hand reassuringly and laced her fingers with his. Eragon instantly responded and firmly gripped her hand as well. Islanzadi stepped up to the podium and began her speech about how Oromis and Glaedr were true heroes and their ability to stand for what they believed in and shoulder the responsibility of giving Alagaesia its last true hope to defeat the Empire. She gave a brief history of their accomplishments before revealing her gift in their honor. A fairth of a young Oromis and the young dragon Glaedr barely two weeks old. Eragon smiled at the picture, finding it hard to imagine Glaedr looking anything but huge.

_I started out small as well Eragon-finarel. There is no need to be so amused. _

_Forgive me Glaedr – elda, but I can't help but think that you were very cute when you were little. Saphira was too, until she started growing teeth, then I thought she was pretty scary. _

_Ah Eragon, who says I am still not cute. Haha, forgive an old dragon's musings. I don't remember that day, but I am glad someone did. _

One by one all the elves paid their respects. Most gave poems, others gave fairths, some made books, others sang trees to resemble them. Arya created a statue of the Great Dragon and his Rider of different colored flower petals, held together by the magic of the forest but it waved here and there to show motion. Eragon thought it was quite beautiful.

_Okay, now my turn. _He took a couple of deep breaths before taking the podium. "Becoming a student of Oromis-elda's was no doubt the greatest gift I could have ever received. I not only learned the ways of the Riders, I also gained a father figure. He was my mentor in more ways than just those of the Riders. He constantly challenged my ethicality and my motivations. Sometimes, more often than not, I did not meet his challenge successfully. But he never gave up on me, until he was satisfied that my training be finished. I have lost my old reasons to fight this war because of my teacher. What was a reason of because he is evil turned into because Alagaesia would be better off with less tyrannical ruler. He changed my reasons for fighting Murtagh from revenge to saving the captured Rider and his Dragon from the torture of Galbatorix. He taught me to see from both sides, he taught me to fear and to be courageous. The most memorable quote I have from him is when he created a fairth of Galbatorix. I told him that I was too afraid to look at it. He simply said, 'That is good Eragon. Fear is good, because without fear there can be no courage to overcome. In your fear of the king, will your courage to defeat him rise.' He was right, in my fear of Galbatorix's power, I trained harder and I have finally achieve the power to defeat him. I will fight the king in the name of my teacher. I will fight and win in his honor. As we all will."

Eragon closed his speech and revealed his painting to the crowd. The elves cheered his speech or stared in awe as his work. He said the words and Saphira let out a huge ball of fire from her belly. The fire changed from blue to gold and took the shape of Glaedr flying with his Rider on his back. The imitation of both circled the city of Ellesmera before traveling higher and higher in the skies and erupting in cascade of fire balls that hit the earth. In their place pillars of solid gold grew and on each pillar was a famous saying or belief that Oromis or Glaedr had voiced. Saphira moved to the exact center of the circle of pillars and huffed at the ground. From her face came more magic flowing deep within the earth and arising as a statue of solid gold of Oromis on the back of a standing Glaedr with Oromis's sword held high and a Glaedr's mouth open. Saphira stepped back before giving one last blow and a light gold flame, powerful, but not uncomfortable steadily erupted from Glaedr's mouth. That flame would never die.

_Thank you Eragon, thank you Saphira. I could never have imagined such displays of honor in my name. I am truly grateful for your tribute. You both honor me. _

_Glaedr – elda, you are our master, there can be no tribute too great for you. _

_Oromis would be proud, not because of your power, finarel, but because of your growth. Had you been weak, but had a mind like yours, he still would have been proud of you. Both of you. _

_Thank you Glaedr-elda_, Saphira hummed, _We truly owe you much more than our lives._

_Go, both of you, spend these last few hours in this beautiful elven city in peace. Come next morning, we will all be on edge. The final battle approaches quickly. _

_As you wish Glaedr-elda. _

Saphira hummed and Eragon turned towards her. He affectionately rubbed her snout and returned his gaze down to the ground.

_Little one, I need rest tonight. We shall leave tomorrow-early morning, before the sun rises. The Varden need us now more than ever. Go spend time and celebrate with the elves. Reassure their hopes and then rest tomorrow while I fly. Goodnight little one. _

_Goodnight Saphira, sleep well. I shall see you tomorrow morning. _

Saphira elegantly spread her wings and took off to their treehouse. She laid in her bed and slept peacefully. Eragon turned his gaze away from the sapphire scales and joined Arya and her mother at their table. Not knowing if it was alright to display any affection for Arya, he sat down and gave a fleeting, but genuine smile towards the princess. She returned the smile and to his surprise, took his hand in hers and gently kissed his knuckles. She laced her fingers with his and leaned her head on his shoulder. Islanzadi simple stared at the two lovers. Eragon couldn't place her gaze, whatever Arya was mad at her mother about did not seem to enter his thoughts at all. But then again, the Queen was a master of hiding her true feelings. Eragon tightened his fingers around Arya's and kissed the top of her forehead.

"Arya, I think it best that we leave tomorrow early morning. Saphira is resting as of right now. The Varden need us as soon as possible. Glaedr-elda has expressed his concern that the final battle is approaching quickly."

"Then we shall leave tomorrow morning. Mother, I trust you heard our decision."

Islanzadi regarded them with calculating eyes before replying, "Eragon-finarel, I understand you are sorely needed in the Varden, however I would like my daughter to stay. She needs to lead the elves into battle and she can't do that from the Varden."

"Mother, there is no need for me to stay. You have other capable generals and leaders that can lead far better than me. Not to mention, Nasuada has a task with me in the lead, I cannot possibly stay now."

"Frankly, I was under the impression that your mission will be commenced when the Varden are deemed ready to march the Empire, which is no where near soon. So, Eragon will leave for the Varden, and you will stay here and lead the armies in Gilead. You are in line for the throne and you need practice leading."

"I do not wish to stay."

"That was not a request Arya Drottningu. That was an order from your Queen. Or did you forget that we have that relationship as well?"

Giving a look of utter hatred Arya got up and left. She seemed to head for the drinks area, but she went quickly past into the darkness.

"If you would forgive me Your Highness-" Eragon started, "but I think it best that I get some rest as well. I am leaving tomorrow morning with no doubt."

The Queen curtly nodded and went back to conversing with her generals about the next battle plan. Eragon got up quickly and followed Arya into the forest. She was leaning against a tree staring up at the full moon.

Eragon smiled at her beautiful figure as his eyes roved over her body. He stopped a little short of touching her before quietly speaking against her neck.

"That didn't go as well as planned."

"She doesn't like our relationship."

"Iet Drottningu, I figured out as much." Eragon had a smile creeping in his voice and for the life of Arya she could not figure out why.

"What are you smiling about?"

"So much as happened in so little time. Yet there is so much to do in even littler time. Yet for the first time I feel like I can do it. And that is solely because of you. I am smiling because I love you, and I don't think I can stop smiling as long as I do love you."

Arya chuckled, "You really are a poet."

"That could be questionable. Poets find inspiration in all things. I find inspiration in only you."

"How do you make me feel so much better about myself when everything is not going the right way?"

"And what makes my love feel like nothing is going right?"

"I won't be with you."

"Yes you will. You will be in my heart. We knew all along that we would have to spend some moments away from each other. But we will be together soon enough. We can live in the knowledge of being able to see each other in the future again."

"Eragon, I want to make one more memory tonight and that is our decision and only ours."

"What would you have me do, iet naunen?"

"Follow me."

Chapter Fifteen: Promises Kept, Bonds Strengthened

THIS IS MATURE CONTENT, DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT. SKIP DOWN TO THE LINE OF ASTERISKS OR * IF YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHAT IT WAS.

Arya took his hand and led him to the waterfalls. The sight was beautiful to behold, but nothing compared to the elf princess that led him there. Eragon watched as her face danced with excitement and anticipation.

"Eragon, tonight, I want us to forget about the war and only think of us. I want tonight to be a lasting memory, not a regret."

With her confession, Arya started to kiss him forcefully. She beckoned his mouth to open for hers while her hands crept up his sapphire blue tunic. She broke the kiss only for a moment to shove his tunic up and out of the way. Her hands roved and gently scraped across his bare chest.

Eragon could hardly breathe properly as Arya took control of his body. His mind couldn't even place words together to make a coherent sentence. He was amazed at his power, but he was in shock at how much power his elf welded over him. Eragon went to the strings of her corset and tugged at them until they came loose. He pulled the first layer off of her and slid his hands underneath the last layer to roam across her body. She shivered against him, but urged his hands to continue. Eragon swept his hands to the front of her apparel and undid the laces. He ruthlessly pulled the material off of her and became transfixed with her body. They were both nude from the waist up, but Eragon had a much harder time dealing with his reaction.

Knowing the strength of her effect on him, she gave him a lustful smile and closed the distance between their bodies. Arya's hands worked at the undoing his breeches while Eragon fumbled with her tight leggings. Frustrated with the material, Eragon ripped apart the pants and got out of his own. Arya let out a little shriek, but was quickly silenced as he picked her up, leaving their clothes behind and stood under the falling water. Eragon led her to the area in front of the cliff, but behind the waterfall. He gently laid her down, the well-hydrated beds of flowers proving to be a perfect place, before laying himself down on top of her. His kisses were much more leisurely than before, as if trying to savor the moment. Eragon's mouth traveled from her lips to her neck and finally down the valley of her breasts.

Arya could hardly think straight. She clutched his head to her chest and gripped his hair tightly. She casually threw a leg over his waist in an effort to speed up his ministrations, but he wouldn't budge. She felt more than saw Eragon's mouth rove over her entire body before with deadly slowness travel closer and closer to her legs.

Eragon looked at Arya one last time before smiling treacherously and dipping his head between her thighs. His kissed her most sensitive area and followed it with a quick lick. Arya nearly fell apart in his arms. She moaned and arched her body to relieve the tension, but nothing seemed to work. Eragon continued his merciless assault on her body. His tongue penetrated into her body repeatedly and Arya couldn't help but beg for more. He prodded and poked inside her all while driving her insane at her most sensitive spot. Eragon finally relented and kissed and licked his way back up to her mouth. He forcefully fused his mouth with hers and slowly lowered his body between her legs. His lover's hands raked at his back and her legs were thrown over his waist.

Eragon slid himself in with much control. Sweat dripped from his body and he didn't think he could take the rising pressure much longer. He entered her tight sheath slowly. Inch by inch he started losing more and more control. Arya was practically pushing herself against him, but he continued at his slow pace until he was completely inside her.

Arya bit her lip as she adjusted to his size. She vaguely saw Eragon lean down, but very intimately felt his mouth attack her neck and chest. He started moving inside of her and she let out an earthy moan. Never had she felt pleasure like this before. With Eragon's body moving deep within her and his lips suckling at hers, she thought she would explode a thousand times over.

Unable to take the pressure any longer, Eragon picked up the pace. He was driving into her sheath with much more force than before and at a much faster pace. He moved his hips over and over. Arya anchored herself by arching her back up and moving against him with the same pace. Her fingers dug into his back, but moved quickly to pulling at his soft brown hair. He could feel himself getting close to the end now. In an effort to end their torture and pleasure, he quickened the pace yet again. Their release came together as Arya gripped his hair tighter than before and Eragon let out a throaty cry before collapsing on top of her body. They lay entwined in each other's arms, not knowing how to get up from their positions.

Eragon finally lifted his head up and slowly slid his body out of hers. Arya let out a small gasp, but refused to look away. She pulled her lover's face up close to his and kissed him gently and slowly. "I love you Eragon. I am yours forever."

"Iet evarínya nuanen, I love you far too much to be described in one word."

"It is getting cold, Saphira might wonder where we are."

Eragon nodded at his princess, somehow finding the strength to use his body again. He lifted Arya in his arms easily and gathered their fallen clothes. They made their way over to the treehouse, the path they took was completely abandoned. Eragon laid his love on the bed and curled up next to her. He tried to keep his hands from roving across her body, but they seemed to have mind of their own. He forced his hands to keep still, but left his hands on her stomach dangerously close to her thighs.

Arya sighed defeatedly, knowing she would never get any sleep with Eragon's ministrations. She smiled at the knowledge and turned easily in his arms. She pushed him down on the bed and put her leg in between his and casually threw her arm on his stomach. Eragon placed his arms on her lower back tracing her curves before settling on her soft yet muscular bottom. His other hand he brought over to cover the arm laying peacefully on his body. When both lovers were finally at peace, they drifted off to sleep warmed by each other's bodies and protected by each other's presence.

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: The Separation

The next morning came too quickly, in everybody's opinion. Eragon quietly dressed before waking Saphira up. Arya watched him from the corner of her eye before leisurely propping herself up in bed. The covers fell down and Eragon immediately couldn't focus on anything else. He dutifully got her one of his tunics and silently padded towards her side. He kept it just out of her reach so she was forced to lean into him. Arya smiled mischievously at him and without warning grabbed his collar and forced Eragon on top of her. She easily got the tunic and pulled it over her head. She entwined her hands on the back of his head and stared up at his striking blue eyes. His eyes were always her undoing. They shone like Saphira's scales in the darkness, the one reflection of light in deep darkness.

Unable to contain his desire any longer, Eragon leaned in with his lips and coaxed his princess's lips to open for him. Meanwhile he slid his hands underneath his tunic that she was wearing and stroked her body gently and firmly. His hands roved over her spine, chest, stomach, his hands swept in between her legs trying to memorize every curve of her aching body. Without warning Eragon got up, picked up his sword and stalked out of the room. He was about to get on his beloved dragon before his heightened senses picked up graceful footfalls close behind him. He turned just in time to catch a running Arya in his arms. She was practically breaking his ribs, it surprised Eragon that so much strength was contained in her smaller, perfect, soft body. He returned the embrace while lovingly stroking her hair.

"We will see each other again. Do not worry."

"I would rather come with you now. Curse my mother for binding me this way!"

"She loves you, that is certain."

"If she truly could love me, then she wouldn't keep us apart."

"We are bound by our hearts Arya, nothing can keep us apart. I will wait until I see you again. However, until that time comes, I will smile because of our memories together. And if I cannot wait to see you, I will contact you over the distances, no matter how long by scrying."

"Eragon, I don't want you to leave without me."

"And I don't want to be without you, but we both have duties, and we must rise and fulfill those."

"This isn't a duty of mine, this is not us fulfilling our duties, this is my mother trying to make life even more difficult."

"Would you like me to talk to her?"

Arya raised her eyebrow at that. "Never mind, it would be a bad idea, I was just going to quell some insecurities she might have on our relationship."

Arya shrugged her shoulders, "Actually it might not be all that bad, since you are the most powerful man to walk Alagaesia."

"I beg to differ-" Eragon started the love rising in his eyes and his lips lowering to capture hers, _I am yours, so you are the most powerful woman in Alagaesia, so perhaps you should be the one to speak with your mother._

Arya smiled against his gentle lips. "I will speak with my mother, now leave before I change my mind about letting you go."

Eragon nodded and stepped back from her. He swung into his saddle and gave her a piercing look. _I love you Arya, if you can't be with me, then your memories will be. Until we meet again._

_Goodbye Eragon, until we meet again. _

Saphira gave a powerful thrust of her wings and was off.

Eragon heard a faint voice in his head, _I love you Eragon, stay safe Wiol Ono. _

He turned to see his elven princess with a tear slowly falling from her cheek. He turned away, it was all he could do to keep from jumping off and running towards her.

Arya watched sadly as Eragon and Saphira receded to mere specks in the sky. She turned back to their house and found her favorite leather pants. Instead of her usual leather top, however, she clipped and pinned Eragon much larger tunic to fit her size. She belted it to her pants and fastened her sword to it. With purpose and a renewed vigor, she marched towards Tialdari Hall.

"What do you need me to do mother?" Arya was curt and to the point. She had no need to stay in the Queen's presence for long.

The Queen returned her daughter's curtness and replied, "You are to leave for Gilead as soon as possible. The armies there are in need of a leader."

Arya grimaced at the mention of her torturous dungeon. She never wanted to set foot in those castle walls again, but it seemed the confrontation could not be avoided.

"Very well, I shall leave in an hour's time. I do not require an escort. The ride by a horse will be little more than a day and a half."

With caustic tongue, Arya left the halls and went to get an elven horse for her journey. She found her trustworthy friend and ally soon. Gathering the little possessions she needed, she went to Eragon's house to check if she left anything important. She picked up her bow and quiver and lithely locked the house for any unwanted presence. Eragon would never have done that, but now this was Arya's home as well, and she had more right than anyone else.

She mounted her horse and was off without so much as a goodbye to her mother.

Eragon arrived in the Varden three days later. Saphira and he were quite exhausted from the flight, but they nevertheless continued to do their duties. Eragon and Saphira landed outside the council's tent to announce their arrival.

"Ah Shadeslayer, it is good that you are back. And Ambassador Arya? Where is she?"

"The Queen ordered Arya to take charge of some armies. As such, she was forced to stay behind, once that is taken care of I am positive she will join us as soon as possible."

"Do you know where she is at?"

"Well, we went to Ellesmera, but where the armies are or where she needs to go I know not."

"Very well, thank you Shadeslayer, get some rest and we will resume council in the morning. I intend to set a preliminary date for the incursion and the battle against the King. We shall set up a new plan for that matter and wait for Arya's arrival as well."

Eragon nodded and left the council tent rapidly. He and Saphira walked to their tent, far too tired to fly and slept for hours. Eragon's dreams started again, but instead of the nightmares he usually saw, he dreamt of Arya and their night together. He smiled at the memory. Arya had given him more than the world, she had given him his peace back. He vaguely felt Saphira curl her wing around his body as he slowly fell asleep.

Arya knew she shouldn't have left without an escort, it was reckless and now anything could happen to her and no one would ever know…not even Eragon. She became depressed with that thought. She had been riding for well over two days straight. Stopping on here and there to rest and let the horse recuperate only took about seven of those hours. Arya kept away from the main path, but she was close enough so that the animals would know to stay away from her Arya pushed any unuseful thoughts out of her head and rode even faster than before. She was planning on arriving in the city by dawn the next morning.

Saphira was still dozing off when Eragon woke in the morning. He understood, his beloved dragon had a very tiring month. He was used to waking up to his elf's face in the morning, but when he realized she was not with him, he couldn't help the pang of loneliness. He shrugged off the foreboding feeling and dressed himself to go to the numerous war council meetings.

"My battalion will be ready in a week's time."

"The soldiers of all the battalions do not have that same luxury."

"The Urgals and the Kull are always ready to fight."

"And the elves? How is their position?" 

"The Spellcasters are ready, the warriors may take a couple more days to recuperate. Those in Gilead are far from ready. They will not be marching until the end of the week."

"The dwarves are tired, they are weary from battles and the constant political unrest in Tronjheim, they will take at least a week more to rest."

"Most of the men require at least another moon's cycle to be fully prepared."

"And we have not the time to give them such."

Eragon and Nasuada sat in silence as each of the generals gave their two sense on the current position of the Varden. No matter which way they looked at it, they would be waiting at least a couple of weeks before anyone was ready. But the people were dying in that time. Not to mention, if the Empire decides to attack, the Varden will have no means of defending itself.

"Shadeslayer, I need you to get in contact with Arya to see how their progress is coming along. We still need her for the mission in Galbatorix's castle. There is no point in sending a hit team to recover the egg if the Varden are making the final stand. However, that mission will be a distraction and if successful will send a blow to the Empire." Nasuada calmed the commotion like the successful politician she was. Eragon often admired her ability to bring reason to a room full of adrenaline charged angry warriors, but now was not the time to be admiring speaking skills of any leader.

"In that case my liege, I will be in touch with Arya as soon as possible." He was eager to leave the war council, but he knew the reason was not because he hated politics, but because he was about to see his love again.

It was late in the morning when Arya arrived in Gilead. From what she saw and the welcome she received, the elves had taken a huge toll in the battle. Murtagh and Thorn had done much more damage than just the elven spirit. She sighed dejectedly, _riling up these beaten down elves is going to be more of a challenge than I thought. _

Arya paused as she gazed upon the hold in Gilead.

"Is something wrong Drottningu?"

Arya looked towards her questioner, an elder general, experienced, smart, a good warrior, but completely hopeless in terms of pacifying her raging emotions as she stared at her captive days again. _Eragon…where are you when I need you? _It was a stupid question, he was busy and so was she. Her heart pounding at the memories that threatened to engulf her mind, Arya answered back, "There is nothing wrong general, I am just worried at the state of the warriors."

"There is much cause for concern, but they will rise and fight if there is a battle brewing."

"There will be no battle here, the Red Rider has been incapacitated for several weeks. And I shall be leaving shortly as well."

"I see, in that case, I will lead you to the council chambers where we will discuss the plans for keeping the fort steady until then."

Arya nodded and brought forth the utmost determination before taking one step forward in that wretched castle. Arya walked what seemed like endless tunnels and passageways before she saw a light coming from a room up ahead. She walked in and saw the heads of the battalions. They all bowed their heads respectively. Arya returned the gesture and commenced the plan.

Chapter Seventeen: A Nightmare relived

"Judging from the state of the warriors, we are in no position to press forward. We shall wait to march on Uru'baen until reinforcements arrive from Du Weldonwarden. The Queen will return with them as well. The only job we have and the most important one is defending the keep. If we lose the fortress, we will have lost all footing and the reinforcements will have no place to go, also the warriors here will most likely be killed if we lose this stronghold."

Arya refused to call her temporary residence by its name, it brought far too many horrid connotations. When the generals nodded their approval, they asked for a battle plan or schema.

"The plan is simple, we fortify the fortress's walls with multiple barriers. The soldiers will learn to work catapults and other means of long distance warfare. We need not attack, simply defend. Also, we set mechanisms around the fortress and the surrounding fields to attack its walkers by a signal. In any case, we must be prepared. Get the strategists together and get some plausible ideas together within four hours. We must move quic-"

Screams insinuated from outside traveled far up the stronghold's walls. Arya could easily tell which were battle cries and which were cries of mercy. This was no battle, this was slaughter. Arya sprinted with her generals close on her heels towards the screams.

Standing in the middle of an array of dead elven warriors was a Shade. He turned his dark purple eyes towards her and sneered. "Come to get me elf, you cannot defeat me, no one can."

Arya wasted no time with words, _No matter how futile this fight seems, I cannot flee, we shall have to win. _

Initiating the attack, Arya struck hard with her sword. Whirling right and left, Arya was even a blur in the eyes of the elves, but the Shade had kept up with her movements.

"Do not try and defeat me elf. I am stronger. I am Moratar, I am not like the others who have died. Certainly not as weak as Varaug or as feeble as Durza."

Whatever hope Arya had faded, this Shade was far more powerful than the other, and this time, Eragon was not even there. Moratar started on the offense, he quickly disengaged all the other elves, but for some reason, he toyed with her. With no warning, the evil being immobilized her and took her down to the dungeons…again. Arya could faintly see where she was being taken to, she knew this feeling all to well, she knew the pathway, and she knew the cell. _Eragon, Eragon, I love you._ Her last thoughts were of her Rider before she slipped unconscious.

Working quickly to scry Arya, Eragon was surprised to see nothing but blackness. He was immediately unnerved.

_What is it little one?_

_I can't see her, _he whispered frantically, _I can't see Arya. It's black, is she dead?_

_No, she cannot be little one, if she were dead, then the water would stay clear, but it turned black, perhaps she is in a dark place. _

_Saphira, there is only one place as dark as the color of this water. _

…_A dungeon. _

_I need to talk with Islanzadi. _

Eragon rapidly contacted the Elven Queen.

"Your Highness, I need to know where Arya was sent."

"I do not understand your predicament. Is there not something you could occupy yourself with?"

"Please, now is not the time, I need to know where she is." Eragon was controlling his hysteria, he could not stand to talk with the Queen when he knew his love could be…he didn't even want to think about it.

"Finarel, I understand that you maybe experience the separation pangs of love, but separating you two was the best choice at the time. I do believe I know what's best for my daught-"

Eragon went in a rage, "I KNOW WHEN SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH MY MATE. DO NOT CONTRADICT A RIDER ELVEN QUEEN. I HAVE ENOUGH POWER TO BRING DOWN YOUR HOME FROM HERE. TELL ME WHERE YOU SENT HER!"

Islanzadi went stiff at Eragon's anger, he could see it in her face, but what he couldn't understand was the tear that formed in her eyes.

With a blank look except for the tear, she replied, "Forgive me Shadeslayer, I sent her to Gilead. I have just received notification that the position was lost. There were under attack, by a Shade…"

"No, no this cannot be. How do you know? There must be some mistake."

"There is no mistake, I have just received word from one of the doves that the messengers sent. I do not know if she is alive or not."

Eragon heard a roar from the his back, he knew it could only be Saphira. He closed his eyes and let the tears fall down, "I will get her back, she cannot be dead. I will not allow it." He got up from his place, sent a messenger to Nasuada, and flew in the direction of Gilead.

_She will be okay little one, she will be. _

_If she is alive, then she is captured, and she is being held in Gilead…for the second time, being abused and tortured by a Shade for a second time. _

Eragon let the rage flow through their mental link. He couldn't even separate his or Saphira's feelings, both were amplified versions of rage. Eragon felt the power of the Grey Folk course through his veins as the anger shook him to his very core. Knowing his predicament, Saphira sped faster towards the godforsaken fortress of Arya's torture.

She woke to a malicious laugh. Stripped down to a breast band and knee length panties Arya was hung from the ceiling with metal chains hung around her hands. Her legs were left dangling. She could feel the drug seeping through her veins. She recognized it immediately; it was one that amplified her senses, especially pain. It was because of the drug that she was able to recognize it at all. She looked around for the voice of her torturer and found the Shade leaning against the wall with a particularly sharp knife in his hand. His purple evil eyes and hair walked over to her.

He slowly ran the knife down her legs, the sound of the blade was muffled by her screams. Several hours later, the Shade placed the knife down. Thinking her punishment was over, she relaxed slightly, only to scream again as the feel of a hot iron whip came swiftly across her back.

"It will all be over if you just give up your secrets. If you swear allegiance to the King, he has need for people like you."

"I will never join you."

"Then you are a fool. Your precious Rider will not venture here. Not even if he loves you."

Arya prayed to whatever controlled faith that it was true. The last thing she wanted was to have Eragon in danger trying to save her from the torture. But deep down, all she wanted was to see her beloved's face one last time, and that her barriers were strong enough to prevent the Shade from finding out exactly how much they loved each other. Arya was pulled from her thoughts as the whip cracked down again. The sounds of metal on skin were again muffled by the screams of an elven princess.

Eragon and Saphira were flying for days straight. Knowing she was nearing the end of her flying abilities, Saphira opted to take Eragon's newly obtained power from the Grey Folk. He poured his energy into her and Saphira's strength was renewed. Eragon could see the faint outlines of Gilead in the far distance. Letting the rage get the better of him, his body burned through fog that had settled in the grim aftermath of a battle.

_There Saphira, there they are. Soldiers of the Empire. _

_They shall burn Eragon!_

Saphira flew over the battalions and quickly reduced the encampment into ashes. Eragon leapt off and engaged the nearest soldier into combat. He easily defeated the soldiers and made his way up to the castle.

_Saphira, finish off the rest of them, I will look for Arya. _

_Be quick, we need to leave quickly. And do be careful, there is a Shade here. _

_I know _he muttered ferociously.

Eragon decapitated the soldiers that stood in his way, those that cringed in fear he burned instead. He felt for Arya's presence and located what was a faint glimmer of her in the farthest part of the castle.

Arya heard the commotion even from her cell. She saw the Shade curse and leave her hanging there. She felt the castle walls tremble and she knew the only person that could cause that much discord was Saphira, meaning that Eragon was close behind. Her strength renewed, she let a little of her magic release in the hope that Eragon could locate her presence.

Eragon was running faster than ever before now. He was a blur even to himself. _Two more rooms, just two more_ Eragon became frantic in his speedy assault. If he had not shown up, Eragon would have found his princess, but instead, he came face to face with a Shade.

Eragon knew better than to let the anger get the better of him, but he didn't care.

"It is futile Rider, this fight is over before it started."

"Yes it is." Eragon released his sword with the words in the Ancient Language, "Burn the sun, King of Fire!" Brisingr lengthened into its double edged blade and Eragon moved to attack. He was on the offense. The Shade didn't stand a chance. Moratar's sword was thrown away and Eragon plunged his blue flaming one straight into its chest. He let out a howl and vanished.

But Eragon was not through with his assault, he broke in the minds of the soldiers around him and saw first hand what they did to Arya. He inflicted as much pain as possible before choking the life out of them. He would have stayed longer had he not felt Arya's presence growing stronger. He burst through the doors of the dungeon and ran towards her cell.

Arya was beginning to lose hope. _Maybe it was just an angry Thorn._ But as soon as she was about to fade, she heard footsteps running towards her. In a matter of seconds, she saw a man clad in blue armor with a blazing sword and the brownest eyes and softest hair she could even touch walk through the door. She let out a cry of happiness, "Eragon…"

Not caring about the things in his way, Eragon went to her side and undid her bindings. Arya fell limp in his arms. "Arya, it's alright now, I am going to get you out of here. We are leaving now." Eragon poured some of his energy into her and Arya immediately became more coherent. "Thank you Eragon."

"Do not thank me, just live for me." He softly whispered in her ears. Eragon swept his arms around her and picked up her tortured body. He made his way to the top of the tower, blasting those foolish enough to get in his way, where Saphira was waiting for them. Eragon got on his dragon and Saphira leapt into the air, returning back to Surda with the same speed with which they arrived. Eragon tapped into Arya's head, _Forgive me for not healing you, there was not the time and I wanted to get us out as soon as possible._

_Eragon…_

_Ssh Arya, I love you, you needn't say a word. Conserve your strength, and I will heal your wounds now. _

He pushed her slightly away from him to get a look at the wounds on her back. He muffled a cry at the sight of her burned and whipped body. His anger rose within him and he wished he hadn't killed the Shade so quickly, but rather slowly torture him to his death. Controlling his dark thoughts, Eragon placed his hands on her back and whispered the words of healing. He repeated the action on her cut and bruised legs as well. Satisfied that she was out of pain, Eragon shrugged out of his tunic and put it on her.

_Eragon, she has been given a drug. You should do well to get it out of her system. _

_Yes, I should, however I do not know where this drug especially targets. _

_Ask her. _

_I would rather not bring up such horrid memories. Just look at what it had done to her back and legs. _

_A little sadness now will end many days of suffering._

_You are right, I will take it out now. _

Eragon again entered Arya's mind with little effort. _My love, I would rather not ask, but what was it that they drugged you with? _

With a twinge of pain in her voice, she replied, _A sense enhancer, it targets the nervous system particularly the sensory nerves at the tips of each end point. Unfortunately nothing can be done, there are too many entry and exit points. I must wait for the drug to wear off. It is nothing to concern yourself with. _

_If that is the case, then take my tunic. It will be cold, and I am used to it, but I would rather not have you freezing – with or without the enhancements of the drug._

Eragon shrugged out of his shirt and gently pulled it over her head. He whispered the words to heat the shirt, giving a constant flow of hot air, and wrapped his arms around her shaking body in an effort to calm her nerves. _ Are you alright now? _

Arya turned her head towards her savior and captured his lips with her own. Turning in his arms to get a better angle, she wrapped her arms around him and deepened the kiss. A tear leaked from her eyes.

_Thank you for coming, and so quickly as well. I do not know if I could have lasted in that place again. _

_Arya, I would come anywhere if it meant getting you out of danger. You never should have been here in the first place. _

_Hold me Eragon, I have had far too many nights and days away from your arms. I have not felt safe in a long while…or even been safe for a long while. _

Eragon tightened his grip around her as tears formed in his eyes and engulfed her small body in his arms. He placed his chin on her head and his hands clasped against her waist. _Iet Drottningu nuanen, I will never let anything happen to you again. _Arya leaned back into her Rider _I know, iet Shurtugal, I know_ she lightly whispered and as she soon fell asleep.

Chapter Eighteen: Thoughts of bloody pasts

She didn't know when they arrived, but the next she woke up she was in Eragon's tent, back in Surda. She looked around to get her bearings about her. It was approximately six thirty in the morning, but that didn't sound right, it should have taken far longer to get back to the Varden.

_Do not fear, Arya, you were asleep the entire time. When you were about to awake, Eragon put you back to sleep while making sure you didn't have any other dreams. He wanted to ensure you had a peaceful rest, unplagued by nightmares . We flew straight through the day. Eragon went to the lake nearby to calm his mind. He said he had a lot to think about. He seems very distressed about something, but he won't let me in – meaning it has something to do with you. In any case he left breakfast and your favorite tea out not too long ago. I will go back to sleep, I need my rest after four days of flying non stop. _

_Thank you Saphira, I am truly sorry you had to push yourself so hard for me. I cannot appreciate you enough for what you have done for me. I...I don't think I had the same strength before, I doubt I could have survived through that again. _

_Nonsense, Arya, you mean as much to me and you do to him. We both love you very much, and even if he didn't come for you, I surely would have. Now go see what he is on about. He blocked himself from me and I do believe you as well. _

Arya nodded and lifted herself out of Eragon's bed. Her legs were still wobbly, numb from the memories wrought on her body. Nevertheless, she set out to find her Rider. She did have a lot to thank him for…

Eragon sat down by the river bank with his eyes closed. His power had frightened him. He made a mockery out of a Shade, not to mention killing over two hundred men, sustaining Saphira with energy to fly back, and heal the extensive wounds on Arya. _Arya_ he thought, _never would he let Arya go through that again. Twice she was subjected to torture because of this war, twice. I will kill Galbatorix, for that reason alone, I would kill him._ He took a deep breathe, smelling the river, the deciduous trees and leaves around him, and the pine cones. _Pine cones? They don't grow around here. Arya…_ His body tensed as he heard her nimble footsteps. He didn't turn around to see her, he didn't want her to see him as the weak minded man he felt he was. He took a deep breathe in a pathetic attempt to compose himself.

Arya spotted Eragon by the river bank. She ran as fast as she could, determined to reach him before he fell too deep in his thoughts. With his back turned toward her, he seemed deeply stressed. Not wanting her Rider to suffer any longer on her account, she knelt down behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

"What is it Eragon? You wouldn't have left me to wake up without you beside me unless something was very wrong. You had promised you would not. What distresses you?"

Eragon leaned back against her soft body, he turned around to face her. He wanted to be that strong man she always thought him to be, the one that needed no one, but when he looked at her face, his resolve shattered. He let the tears silently flow, partly in joy as to see her beside him safe, and partly in horror because of what he had done to have her here. Eragon wrapped his arms around her waist and brought them both sprawling on the ground. Arya's hands were lightly scratching his scalp in an effort to sooth him while his face was raining kisses over her neck and jaw.

"Eragon, what is wrong?"

"I am a monster."

"How are you a monster, do you regret coming for me?"

"No! never that, I regret the manner in which I did it. I was brutal. I took down two hundred men, cleaving their body in pieces, I killed a Shade with a stroke of my blade and I killed two men by crushing their minds when I saw what they did to you." Eragon sighed, "This is what they were afraid of."

"Who?"

"Oromis-elda, Angela, Solembum, they were afraid of my anger. I am not in control with my anger."

"I don't believe it. You are not evil Eragon, far from it. You saved me, no matter the manner of how, you saved me. It was your love that saved me. Whatever you did, it was out of love, not anger. You feared what happened to me, and that drove you, not your anger, never that."

"You believe in me far too much. Your judgment is clouded."

"Nay, I have your memories remember, well, I do now. I know with what emotions you brought down Gilead. Underneath that façade of rage you saw so clearly is the foundation of love it aroused from."

Arya brought his head up and kissed him long and passionately. "I love you Eragon, and I know that you are not an evil man, nor will you ever turn a tyrant."

"I feel weak Arya, I put anger into killing, and then regret what I did. I came after you, and to get you out of that hell, I mutilated soldiers, and now I feel for them, feel for those who hurt you, I feel badly for those who hurt you. I am weak, I do not deserve your trust."

"Only a monster would not care for the lives it takes, no matter the cost of not taking them. I know what you had to do for me, I know what monsters in your head you had to confront to save me. And more than ever, I understand the price you paid for my life, and I trust and love you all the more for it. Believe me Eragon, I know how much it pains you to take another life, and because of that I know exactly how much you consciously sacrificed for me. A lesser man would have given up long ago."

"How do you do it?"

"What Eragon? How do I do what?"

"Shine a light in the darkness, and pull me out of my misery. How do you make my irrational thoughts see reason in a clouded world?"

"Eragon, I love you, and I show you the man I am in love with when he forgets who he is, I show you yourself, only in these eyes of mine."

Eragon couldn't respond, he didn't know how. He just kissed her leisurely, his tongue in a slow waltz with hers. "I never got a chance to properly thank you for saving me."

"Yes you did, you said 'thank you.'" Eragon glanced confused down at her beautiful face, one he could spend decades staring at.

She laughed, "No my Rider, I mean properly thank you."

AGAIN MATURE CONTENT, DO NOT READ IF IT OFFENDS YOU (THIS IS A LIME THOUGH)

Arya rolled her Rider over and slipped her hands underneath his tunic. She pulled it over his head and worked with his breeches. Eragon smiled down at her and started undoing Arya's multiple straps. He brought her up to his lips and kissed her with the same urgency he did that night, as if it would never be enough. He ruthlessly pulled her pants off of her and let his lips stray from her mouth. Their clothes in a wild array, the sun barely rising in the horizon, and the sounds of running water in the bank, Eragon and Arya remained locked in each other's passionate love as they both sought to show exactly how much they loved the other.

* * *

Several hours later, Eragon and Arya lay on the ground, glowing in the after. Eragon propped himself on his elbow and stroked the side of this love's face.

"We should take a bath."

Arya nodded lightly and brought her head up to kiss him gently, a stark contrast to the way they had just finished making love to each other. Eragon picked her lithe body up and took her to the river. They basked in each other's presence, not wanting to move until they both heard a voice. _Little ones, Nasuada wants to see you both in her tent in a half and hour. I suggest you come quickly. I do believe the Queen would like to talk to you Arya. _

Arya stiffened immediately. Noticing the change in her, Eragon swam over to her and put his arms around her. "I know, I don't like her either. In fact, I even yelled at her."

Alarmed, Arya spun in his arms, "What? Under what circumstances? How could you be so reckless?"

"Nasuada had ordered me to contact you about the upcoming mission to Uru'baen. I had scryed you earlier, so I believed you were safe. But when I moved to contact you, all I saw was black, I assumed you had been captured again as the only black I have seen like that matched a cell in a dungeon. I contacted Islanzadi and asked where you had been sent. When she wouldn't answer me, citing reasons that she knew what was best for you, I lost my temper and answered that I was your mate and had more of a right to know what happened to you than she did. I also threatened to make your home fall when she stood as well. But that's besides the point. Forgive me, it was reckless, but I needed to find out where you were. I had to get to you."

"I want to be mad that you even risked yourself that way. Leaving the Varden in such short notice was reckless enough, but to risk angering my mother like that could place the war in jeopardy. The fate of the world rests on your shoulders. You should have left me, the elves would have come."

"And my fate rests on your shoulders Arya, never doubt that. I couldn't let you go through that torture again, iet nuanen. Never again." He practically bit the last words out as he let that familiar emotion take over him again. "And she wasn't angry, by the end of my rant she received a notification that you had been taken captive, and then she told me where you were and I left immediately."

Arya let the tears silently fall. Eragon looked in her eyes and wiped them away. "You would have come for me as well."

"You risk too much."

"I would never risk your life like that. Had I not come, I would risk both our lives. I have no doubt you are embedded in my soul that it has changed my true essence. The Eragon you fell in love with and the Eragon grown out of your love are two different people."

The Rider felt her breath quicken in his confession, as if unsure how to reply to such a statement. He wrapped his arms around his strong little elf momentarily letting the peace steal in him again. _I love you Arya, I feel like fighting the king right this instant leaving us free to leave this war and be together forever. _

_I love you too Eragon, and you are right. If you were captured, not even my mother could stop me._

_We need to contact her. I did earlier while you were sleeping, just to let her know that you were alright. _

_I don't even want to see her, much less talk to her._

_We'll make it brief, I'm sorry for putting you through this. _

_It is not your fault. Don't apologize. _

Eragon broke away from Arya and gave one of his special smiles. They walked in silence towards their clothes and camp, then finally to Nasuada's tent.

"Ah, perfect timing you two. The Queen was just getting extremely irritable."

Eragon tried not to smile at the obvious irony. Nasuada had no idea that the Queen was actually Arya's mother, and insulting her like that would no doubt make Arya quite irritable as well.

Arya whispered in his mind, _She's rather irritable to me as well. _Eragon smiled under his breath, he knew Arya would be peeved with her mother. In any case, Arya walked over to the bowl of clear water and attempted to reconcile with her mother.

She curtly nodded and engaged in conversation – all in the Ancient Language as she did not want Nasuada finding out about her lineage.

"Mother."

"Arya, I was so worried, are you quite alright now?"

"Yes."

"There is no need to be so short tempered, you are safe once again, and Gilead is back in the hands of the elves thanks to Shurtugal and Bjartskular. We are back in position."

"Mother, we need to talk, and not about the war."

"What is it Arya?" 

"I know you sent me away because of my relationship with Eragon. Do not even try to deny it. I will not deny that I love him, I do and I am not shying away from that fact. However, I will not stand for any more hindrance from your part either. We are mates, you accepted it once, and took your acceptance back when you saw my personality change in his presence. I am still the same person mother, I just have an easier time being myself. If you still do not accept my relationship with Eragon, then so be it. You banished me once, you can do so again. I do not care."

"No, I will not banish you, but I must warn you, relationships between Riders and elves do not go over very well. This relationship is doomed for failure. You need to be protected, that is all. You won't be prevented in your relationship, I will go as far as even supporting you, but do not tell me that I didn't warn you. Good-bye Arya, I am glad that you are safe and well. Pass my regards to Eragon and Saphira as well."

With that the regal elven queen severed the connection and walked away. Arya turned to face Nasuada and Eragon once again. She relayed the information about the current position of the elves in Gilead and their success in keeping the fortress standing.

Nodding to her words, Nasuada waved to dismiss them, but caught herself.

"Shadeslayer, Ambassador, I would like to discuss a few matters with you." She motioned for them to sit down. "I would also like to do this in an informal manner if you don't mind. I do consider you my friends and I need honest opinions."

"Of course, Nasuada." Eragon replied with ease knowing there was a lot on the Varden's agenda.

"Eragon, you understand that we need to make a move on Galbatorix soon. If what you say is true, in that Murtagh is truly held against his will, then we should attack at a time when Murtagh is not ready to fight. If we can kill the king, then Murtagh will be released from his bonds. We need to do that soon. The mission to find the third egg needs to be canceled. It is unnecessary. If we get the egg and lose the war, we have not gained anything. If we win the war, then we will have ample time to look for the egg. We need to concentrate on the war, not another dragon egg. What are your thoughts?"

"A wise decision Nasuada, I agree with you, but how long do we have until we need to attack?" Arya was relieved at the prospect of not breaking into Uru'baen, but the other possibility could be just as worse.

"We need to be able to march in a couple of days, but we need about five to recover completely."

"Nasuada" Eragon began, "If I may be so blunt as to ask, why can't we leave in two days? What is taking so long?"

"The men are not recovered yet, the bones have not mended, and we need the largest fighting force we can get."

"I may have a solution."

"That is what I have been waiting for Eragon, please give me an idea."

"Call upon the elves and march together. The combined forces will be far more strong than just the Varden soldiers. March from Surda to Uru'baen, and the elves will march from Gilead to the same place. That way, the incapacitated soldiers will not be missed, and the Empire soldiers will be forced to cover all fronts."

"I do not know whether the elves will agree."

"Do not worry about that Lady Nasuada, the elves will agree. I will make sure of it. If not-" Arya continued, "Then I will rally the elves myself and lead them against Uru'baen at the scheduled time. They will be there."

"Thank you Arya, in that case I shall announce the decision to leave for Uru'baen day after tomorrow before the sun rises. Thank you Eragon, Arya. You may leave now."

Chapter Nineteen: Doubts Insinuated

The pair abruptly left the tent and went to Arya's tent. They hadn't visited it since Arya arrived in the Varden and now was a good of a time as ever. Luckily the other elves were out mingling so they slipped unnoticed inside.

Arya stretched out in a catlike manner before settling her emerald eyes on the magnificent blue ones that observed her intently. She saw Eragon lean against the pole that upheld her tent in the center, his eyes were darkened and troubled, a stark contrast to the expression of love and peace she observed in him earlier in the morning.

Not wanting to invade his privacy, Arya simple offered a comforting smile, she knew his mind was on the upcoming battle.

"We won't fail Rider, we won't lose."

"I never the battle would come so quickly. I always thought it was a long ways off, and now it is being scheduled for four days away. I am at a loss for words. It is not that I cannot defeat him, but I just don't know what to do if I succeed."

"When you succeed."

"There is always a possibility."

"You cannot leave me alone, Eragon, I won't allow it!"

His gaze never wavering from her eyes, Eragon steadily walked over to her. "I promised you, didn't I? I promised you that I will do whatever I can to make sure that I never leave you. And I won't Arya, I won't give up fighting if I can. I will fight to the end."

"I know Eragon, that is all I can ask of you."

"I have absolutely no idea as to what I will do when the war is over."

"Meaning?"

"Angela told me that I was destined to leave Alagaesia forever. Never to set foot on it again."

"That could have multiple interpretations."

Eragon quizzically looked at her. Arya continued, "Well, Alagaesia as it is meaning under the king's rule will be different than Alagaesia under a different regime. So in a way you are destined to leave Alagaesia forever. There is also the factor of time, it could be thousands of years before you actually leave. Riders are immortal. Vroengard, and its home of the island is technically not part of the mainland Alagaesia and is considered a separate governing body, it could mean you are leaving for Vroengard. There is also the possibility of leaving for Alalea, the land of the elves far away. Part of a different country, separated completely from Alagaesia long ago, Alalea's whereabouts were lost in history long ago, but I am sure some scholars still know of it."

"And what of us? What if you must take the position of the Queen among the elves?"

"I won't leave you."

"You have a duty to your people."

"My mother can be Queen forever, I do not want to be."

"Arya-" Eragon began before she cut him off, "When the time comes I will deal with it, however, I have no desire to rule. And even if I was forced to, I will rule until a better person is suited for it, or our children. I am not leaving you and I expect the same from you. You will not go on another adventure without me. And if your adventures take you to Vroengard, then I will ensure that you rebuild the race of the dragons in Ellesmera first and then rebuild Vroengard. But when the war ends, we will not be separated."

Eragon smiled at her ferocity. He had always admired her ability to make sense in his world of clouded judgment. As long as he had Saphira and Arya, he needed little else. Expressing what words could not, Eragon stalked across the room and sat at the edge of Arya's bed. Plainly reading his emotions Arya pulled her lover up so his face was even with hers.

"I haven't kissed you in a while."

Eragon laughed, "We did more than just kiss this morning."

"It has still been a while..."

Eragon willingly obliged her masked request with his own desires. As their mouths tangoed to the sultry beat of their hearts they allowed themselves to forget everything, just that once.

They broke apart quickly when they heard footsteps walking swiftly to their tent. In an effort to stay undiscovered, Eragon leaped off the bed in silence and took a relaxed pose in a chair opposite the bed. Regaining his composure, Eragon waited as the intruder made his presence known.

Eragon sniffed the air and immediately realized who the intruder was. Arya silently left her position and open the flap to her tent. Bowing deeply, Blodgarm entered.

If he was surprised at seeing Eragon in the elven princess's tent, he made no visible evidence of it. Instead he formally greeted the Shadeslayer and went on about his business.

"Arya Drottningu, it is a great pleasure to see you well again. We were all worried about the attack on Gilead. A Shade is no laughing matter."

"The raid was unexpected, the only possible theory I have come up with is that this particular Shade was able to shape shift. The generals would not have overlooked a creature such as that, but they would have had no reason to if it had an appearance of an elf in a land of humans. Unfortunately, now we cannot even have that luxury in determining where loyalties lie based on appearance."

"Quite right you are Drottningu, there have been measures taken. The Queen has ordered that the minds of every elf be checked and those who seek to gain or leave the castle walls will be thoroughly checked and rechecked. That way no unknown presence can wield its way into the fortress."

"That is indeed good news."

Blodgarm continued, "And I do believe a great deal of thanks are in order for the Shadeslayer."

"What for Blodgarm?" Eragon humbly asked.

"If anyone else were to try and rescue Arya Drottningu, or even attempt to take back the fortress, they would have failed undoubtedly. If you had not left as fast as you had, we would have lost a strategic position and one of our greatest leaders and warriors. I thank you, Shadeslayer."

"There is no need Blodgarm, though I appreciate the gesture."

The wolf like elf bowed and left the premises.

"Does he know?" Eragon asked hesitantly.

"He certainly did not show any signs if he had. Nevertheless, my mother accepted our relationship so he will have to."

Eragon nodded, "Arya, before our relationship becomes apparent to the entire Varden, I shall take your leave quickly. I need to see Roran and Katrina, but I will see you soon. With the victory in Feinster, Nasuada has moved my things to a room in the castle. I do believe she has put your room close as well, on the same floor at least. Nasuada herself is somewhere up farther. I do believe she has sent some servants down to help you with your items. Good-bye, iet Drottningu, until we meet again."

Arya watched as Eragon made his way over to exit her tent. Something in him changed since Blodgarm had walked in. Lightly grasping his hand and lacing her fingers with his, Arya turned him around to face her. She smiled at him, _Eragon what is wrong? There is no need to be so formal with me. _

_Arya, I am afraid that if the others find out of our love, they will not let us be together. And I need you with me. I love you Arya, and I am truly sorry for being so formal, but I fear unwanted listeners. _

_There is nothing to fear, my love. _

Arya closed the distance between and placed a leisurely kiss on her Rider's lips. "You worry too much Eragon, if they were to find out, then they do. I have nothing to be ashamed of, do you?"

"Ashamed of? Arya, please, how could I ever be ashamed of being in a relationship with you? You honor me by simply speaking with me, let alone loving me. The reason I am afraid is that if the Varden finds out, they might deem our choices distracting and forcefully separate us. I am not under the elven Queen's rule, so I could disobey her, but my liegelord is an entirely different case."

"I do not believe she will threaten to separate us."

"Very well, I cannot deny you anything. Will you come with me to my cousin's place?"

"They are my family too, now."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Although I do believe Katrina considered you family long before you ever became my mate."

"At least I won't have much to prove to them."

"Arya, you need not to prove anybody anything."

"So sweet you are with words Rider, you truly are a poet at heart."

"Only for you, iet evarínya nuanen, only for you do my words find an unknown elegance."

Arya smiled at the knowledge and circled her arms around his waist. Laying her head against his broad muscular chest, she felt that familiar feeling of safety. She shivered at the cold left her when Eragon's familiar bands of steel of arms enveloped her. Arya was satisfied at simply being in his embrace. She wouldn't have cared how many years went by in his arms, as long as they still encircled her.

_I would never leave you. It is only you that my arms will hold. _

_I know Eragon, now lets go ease that worrisome cousin of yours. _

Eragon stepped away and held his hand out for his princess. "Are you ready to tell the world?"

"More than ever." Arya courageously took his hand and they walked together towards Roran's house, across the entire grounds of the Varden.

Most of the elves remain motionless as the pair weaved through tents and alleys. _My mother must have informed them. _Arya thought.

_Most likely, although, these elves are the best at concealing their emotions. _

Arya jumped; she did not expect Eragon to still be locked deep within the recesses of her mind. Realizing that Eragon rarely left her mind, even when they were separated by the length of the kingdom, Arya became aware that she also had gotten used to residing in his mind. Eragon's presence was now a given for normal state of mind. She frowned slightly, _Is this normal? _

_I do not know, Arya, I have never been in a relationship before. _

_Faolin and I always had our minds closed off to each other, but I can't speak for any other mates. _

_So it isn't normal, but why would that be a problem? As long as we both are happy with situation, I see no problem. _

_I know, I just was wondering if most normal elves do stay in each other's minds that's all. _

_Even if they didn't, iet Drottningu, I hardly think an elven princess and a Dragon Rider are simple normal mates by any circumstance. _

Arya smiled at the playfulness in his voice. He had an uncanny ability to ease the tension in her mind. Whether it be his seriousness at her anger, his loving nature towards her sadness, or his humor at her musings, Eragon always knew the right thing to do, even when they weren't mates. _To think of it, Eragon knows me better than anyone else, even before he knew my every waking thought. _

_Is that a surprise? I thought you knew that I fell for you the moment I saw you. _

_Yes, but lust is different than love. _

_I did lust after you, and so I watched your every move and reaction, and then I loved you. I am not going to deny that the reason I paid so much attention to you at first was because of your beauty, but the reason no other woman has ever held any of my interests is because of you in your entirety – including your anger, by the way. _

Arya did not know whether to kiss him or hit him. So she consented to do both, smacking his arm playfully and then kissing where she had hit him. Laughter tugging at his mouth, Eragon walked closer to his princess and intertwined his arm with hers. They sobered quickly when they realized they were being stared at by many people in the vicinity.

_They seem rather awed. _

_Eragon, why do they stare at us like we have two heads? We are just in love, two elves in love. _

_Ah, so you never noticed how you seem to attract everybody's gaze to you when you walk? But I have to admit, it is rather blatant today. _

_How have I never noticed this? _

_Simple, you were focused when you walk on things in your mind, you paid little attention to your surroundings unless you needed to. I, on the other hand, had lots of difficulty focusing on anywhere but you, so I forced myself to look at my surroundings, hence noticing how you attract attention everywhere. _

_You do too – with the female population at least. _

_Yes, with Angela who tracked me down for Elva, Nasuada who tracks me down for everything, Saphira who tracks me down for the fun of it, or you who tracked me down to go over battle plans. _

_So you don't notice how all the woman stare at you when you walk past. _

_I have never noticed those who lust after me, but most woman that turn their gaze toward me, do so because they fear me. They fear that I will be the cause of the death of their husband, brother, or son. And I understand their fear. _

_Are you still mulling over the prophecy? You will not turn evil. I will not allow it! _

_No, not because of the prophecy, I understand their fear because I was first hand exposed to it. This war was started and now has escalated because of me, had Saphira never hatched for me, the Varden would still be hurting the Empire will little attacks, not full scale battles._

…_And I would still be in Gilead. _

Eragon stopped abruptly and turned to face Arya. "My love, I do not regret Saphira hatching for me, or saving you, or anything else that I have done. I would do them again in a heartbeat. I understand that war has its consequences, I was merely observing a fact. I am sorry, Arya, but it was never my intention to portray that I regretted anything I did."

Arya merely nodded and placed a swift kiss on his lips and laced her fingers with his once again. Eragon could tell she wasn't convinced, but he remained silent until they came upon Roran's tent. Briefly knocking, they entered hand-in-hand.

Katrina was the first to see them. She made her way over and embraced Eragon in a sisterly hug while doing the same for Arya. The elven princess was slightly stiff, but she eventually relaxed in the embrace. She gave a smile and retained a pleasant face.

"Eragon, we really have missed you so much. Roran was getting rather edgy without you around. He said he was worried something might have happened to you."

"Katrina, he should be worried about something happening to himself."

"I know, he's a risktaker that one, but you're still his younger brother, he still feels protective."

Eragon's heart fell at her words, he had another older brother to think about, that was also hellbent on trying to save him or kill him, but unfortunately, he couldn't tell which yet.

Arya knew of Eragon's predicament, she silently sent waves of love and assurance in his mind and gently wrapped her arm around his waist. He smiled at her and returned the gesture.

"Ah, I see you have some more exciting news to tell me."

Arya spoke this time, "Yes, we do. Eragon and I are mates. Marriage is not a custom among the elves, but a similar institution is in place. When elves fall in love and decide to make the relationship permanent, they become mates. But there are no words or intricate ceremonies, they are simply bound by their love for one another. And Eragon and I have become such mates."

"That is truly good news. I am glad you both have found someone very special to you. You both have my best wishes for the years to come in happiness. I do have one question though, aren't elves immortal?"

Eragon answered this time, "Yes, Katrina, they are. Why do you ask?"

"Well, Eragon you are a human, and Arya is an elf. Surely at one point, you will be forced to separate by death."

"Yes and no. I am a human, but I am also a Dragon Rider. I am blessed with long life. I will not age as Arya will not age as well."

"I did not realize that you would be immortal as well Eragon. Forgive me, that is quite a shock to tell the truth."

"There is nothing to forgive Katrina, I understand fully, and I was quite surprised myself when I first found out. However, whether or not I am immortal or she is immortal would not have changed the fact that I love Arya, and will always love her."

"That is wonderful news, I am just glad that fate has it that you both will live the rest of your long lives together than in the absence of the other."

Roran strode in his tent and quickly saw Eragon and the elf. Not caring that the elf was holding onto Eragon for the moment, Roran grasped his cousin tightly in a hug.

"Oh, Roran, I am glad to see you too, but you are practically maiming my ribs."

"Whatever, heal them later. I, on the other hand, am quite glad that you are back. I was worried about you."

"There was no need to worry."

"Probably, but you seemed tensed when you left."

"Roran, honey, let your cousin up. He has some exciting news for you."

"Really? Well, spill it out, what is it?"

Eragon laughed, "Peace Roran, you shall know. Arya, would you like to tell him?"

Laughter playing on her features, she took Eragon's breath away. He loved her like this, laughing, happy, and peaceful. Her eyes lit his dark inner world like the sun takes away the night.

_Eragon, you really are a poet._

_Only around you, Arya, always only around you. _

Smiling, she turned to Roran and spoke, "Eragon and I have become mates, I have already told Katrina what that is, but for all intensive purposes, we are in a relationship that is similar to yours and Katrina's."

"That is truly wonderful news. Congratulations to the both of you." Roran embraced Eragon once again and turned to give Arya a much lighter hug. She seemed to be expecting it this time, so she returned the gesture much more quickly.

Roran continued, "Are you doing anything to celebrate?"

"Well, no, not really. We have only told Arya's mother, Saphira, and you guys. I have not even told my liegelord."

"That could be problematic, are you thinking of telling her tomorrow?"

"…No Roran, not really."

"I wouldn't put it off, she's bound to find out by tomorrow, and you should be the one to tell her. The people of the Varden are counting on a good relationship with you and your liegelord. The soldiers we fight do not fight on their own accord, we have seen that on many occasions. The warriors of the Varden need to know that a warrior exemplar is treating his liegelord well and is being treated well in return."

"That is true Roran" Arya said, "We had not thought about it. Eragon, we should tell Nasuada as early as possible, perhaps even later tonight."

Eragon nodded, "Of course, I shall send her a message, and hope she gives us an early time slot in her schedule or at least let us drop by for a visit."

"Well then, that's settles it. Eragon, Arya, we truly are very happy that you have someone else to count on."

They smiled at the husband and wife pair, said their goodbyes and left the tent.

"Anyone else you want to visit, love?"

"No, Arya, not really. But I do want to show you something. Follow me."

Chapter Twenty: Mere Observations

Eragon took off sprinting towards the woods. Grinning at his antics, Arya followed behind closely. They jumped from tree to tree till they reached the highest point of a cliff. Eragon finally stopped running when they neared the edge.

Beckoning her to come and see, Eragon held out his hand. Arya took it without hesitation and stood next to him. She tore her gaze from his beautiful blue eyes sparkling under the setting sun and soaked the sight in front of her. There was a crater in the center, a place she recognized as the Burning Plains. There was no life to be seen anywhere inside the crater of fire, but surrounding it were thousands of lush green trees teeming with animals and life given by the energy from the heat of Dragon's fire.

"Arya, here is a place of the utmost destruction. There is no life, only an endless brigade of fire underneath the black charred ground. Yet, it is because of that crater and that fire that all those other beings are able to live and thrive in numbers rendered insupportable if this crater were never here. Is the formation of the crater a bad thing then, is it something to regret? I think not, but there is no doubt that forming this crater lead to much destruction. Arya, in the same way, Saphira hatching for me destroyed many things. Families, land, happiness, and whatever little peace there was left, but look at the forest around it, look at how many more lives are better this way. Mine especially, yours as well, I hope. Roran and Katrina would never have gotten married, Carvahall would still be under the regime of a tyrant, along with all the conquered cities. The Varden would never have gotten this far. I do not regret any decision, Arya, my life is better for it. And most of all, I will never regret Saphira hatching for me because I have you now. Arya, I love you, I love you so much, there aren't enough words in any language to express how I feel about you or how much I love you. You are my forest teeming with life surrounding my crater of destruction. How could I ever regret that? Do you understand Arya? Do you understand how much you mean to me?"

Eragon's hands were framing the elven princess's face as he urged her to see how much love he had in his eyes. A tear leaked from those beautiful emerald eyes, others threatened to follow soon. Before they had a chance to take over, Eragon's lips were kissing them away, willing them away as he fervently moved his mouth over her eyes and cheeks. He slowly made his way over to her lips and deepened the kiss.

Arya had no words, she could never have found any words to answer her beloved. She was in distress that part of Eragon wished that life could have returned to before he became a Rider, but she was content with the fact that fate took a different turn for him. But now she was soaring with ecstasy at what he revealed to her, she was soaring the knowledge that he only observed how different life would be, not that he in any way, shape, or form wished his fate otherwise.

MATURE CONTENT ONCE AGAIN (THIS IS A LEMON) DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE OFFENDED

Arya kissed her Rider back with as much ferociousness as she could muster. She practically tore his belt off before slipped her hands underneath his tunic. Raking her nails gently, yet firmly down his back sent Eragon into a spiral. He couldn't think straight with Arya ravaging his body. His own hands had a mind of their own, undoing laces and straps at a speed he didn't think was possible. He pulled the clothing off of her torso and hungrily viewed her naked body. He kissed her again with his hands running in all different directions trying to memorize her curves and contours.

They fell to the ground and Arya pulled Eragon's tunic off with just as much desperation. Arya straddled his lap while he lay on his back. His mouth returned to her lips as he slipped his tongue into her mouth and his hands underneath her leather pants. She gasped at the pleasure of it and moaned even louder as Eragon explored the crevices in her mouth and kneaded her lush curves beneath the imploring material.

If it was possible at all, Eragon hardened even more at the sight of Arya on top of him. Reading what she so blatantly wanted, he slipped his hands out, instigating a whimper from his elf, and worked with getting her pants off. Undoing the laces and loosening the material, Eragon suavely slipped the material from her body.

Arya was not so careful, she frantically undid the buttons on his breeches before forcing them off of him. Both completely naked, and Arya somehow still on top of Eragon's demanding body, they brought their lips together in a hot encounter.

In a fluid motion, Eragon flipped his body so that he was on top, and a desperate Arya demanding his body underneath him. Eragon licked and kissed his way down her neck, over her chest, her nipples, her tight curls and her sensitive clit. Arya was in tears from the sheer pleasure raking her body, she had never felt so many sensations before in her life, especially not like this.

Eragon brought his head up to kiss Arya's lips again. He was always in awe around her. He was mesmerized by her body and she knew the effect she had on him. Uncaring that she knew exactly how much power she held over him, Eragon set his full attention on showing exactly how much he cared for his princess and queen of his heart. His hands glazed over her body, adding a new pleasurable sensation to his lips assaulting her face. His lips went a little lower, much more thorough in his exploration and he slipped his hand between her legs. Eragon heard her cry out in pleasure from his actions. He smiled mischievously against the valley between her breasts. He rubbed his hand firmly up and down her wet entrance to be bathed in a new river of hot liquid.

Arya could have died from the sensations ruling her body. She needed release, and Eragon was a master at keeping her just out of reach. She felt his hand bathed in her liquid heat rub once again firmly against her throbbing body, but she felt Eragon's soft brown hair tickle he moved his head from the center of her chest. Before she could look to see what he was doing, he rubbed again strongly and took her nipple in his mouth. She screamed in pleasurable agony, unable to take much more of Eragon's expertise in love making. She buried her hands in his soft hair and held his head tightly to her chest.

Eragon began to stroke his hand relentlessly against her most sensitive spot while his mouth teased, bit, licked, and sucked at Arya's breast. He felt her nearing the edge, but he pushed her a little further. He daftly entered one finger in her entrance and turned his attention to the other nipple. He heard his beloved let out another scream of pleasure. His desire began to rule over him as well. Eragon couldn't think or see straight anymore. His body was hardened past the point of torture. He couldn't stand much longer without entering her body. Testing their limits, Eragon entered a second finger and stretched her slightly.

Rocking from the ecstasy that only Eragon was capable of giving her, Arya was unable to contain her desire any longer. Powerless against the sensations raking her body, she flipped Eragon over kissed him fiercely. Gasping as he removed his fingers from deep within her body, Eragon positioned her waist over his aching desire.

His body still stretched her beyond imagination. With painstaking slowness, she lowered her hips over his thick shaft, her body a tight sheath begging to be filled. Eragon gasped at the slowness Arya was descending against his body. He was fighting the urge to take control, and Arya smiled through her comprehension of his actions. His lifted his hands to rove over her body and brought his lips to hers.

Giving herself time to adjust to his body, Arya moved her hips over as she straddled his body. Arya rode his body hard, wanting more and more pleasure. Eragon groaned in pleasure as he felt Arya rise and fall on his hardened shaft. Incapable of fighting her, he helplessly thrust his hips against hers, rising to meet her descending waist. Arya felt his body penetrate deeper and deeper until she wondered how he would ever get out. Tears forming in her eyes from the pleasure of feeling his body deep within her core, she felt her release shatter her body, followed quickly by Eragon's climax.

With their strength drained from their wild love making, Arya collapsed against Eragon's muscular chest. Not knowing if he could support her weight standing, Eragon wrapped his arms around her small body. He buried his face in her raven black hair smelling the scent of fresh pinecones he loved so much. Finding the strength to get up, Eragon lifted himself and Arya off the ground. He reluctantly left the warmth of her body to gather their clothes. Luckily, none had been too badly mauled. He returned to her and placed a languid kiss on her lips as in savoring her taste. He wordlessly handed her the clothes and put on his own. Hand in hand, happy to be next to each other, they walked back towards Eragon's tent.

* * *

Smiling under his gaze Arya mockingly demanded, "Next time, my perfect Rider, we use a bed. I don't think next time I'll even have the strength to get up."

Eragon chuckled under his breath, "Then, until next time, I will carry a bed wherever I go."

She playfully punched his arm and wandered up to Eragon's room. They no longer had a tent, but rooms with their possessions transported. Their rooms were separated by one, and across the hall. _Good, not too far to go. _

"And whose room do we stay in tonight?"

"Yours" Eragon replied, "We need to set it up and get everything in place."

"Did you get your belongings put in place?"

"Saphira."

"What did Saphira do?"

"She used her magic, tired though she was, and somehow placed everything in my room as it was in the tent."

"Then can you do me a favor?"

"Anything Arya, you do not even have to ask."

"I would like to stay in your room, I have not the strength to do any organizing tonight, I just want to sleep."

"As you wish."

Eragon made sure there were no sightseers, and lifted Arya in his arms and entered his room. He handed her some of his nightclothes to sleep in, while he changed.

"Where is Saphira?"

"She told me earlier that she was going to the Dragon hold up on top of the fortress, apparently its much more spacious and comfortable. She went hunting a little while ago, and just returned to get some more rest. She wishes the both of us a very good night, and a good morning as she said she might not be up very early in the morning."

"She did overexert herself flying at that speed."

"There is no doubt, as a Dragon, she has much strength, but she takes longer to recover when she goes closer to her limits. She will be fine by tomorrow, she recovers much faster than normal. Glaedr had told us this earlier, that Saphira has incredible strength and recovery rate, something not common. She will be fine soon. Food, rest, and time is all it takes for her to heal fine. Do not worry."

Arya smiled and laid in Eragon's bed. She wore a red soft cotton tunic over her beautiful body. She left her legs bare giving Eragon tantalizing glances at her bare legs and bottom. Eragon wore his white felt material pants and left his torso bare. Knowing all too well exactly how much her body was affecting his, she smiled expectantly at him, willing him to join her. Eragon's resolve broke, he climbed up behind her and ran his hand up her smooth legs. Arya snuggled against his body underneath the blankets, her back pressing against his muscular chest. She felt his arm curve low across her waist. Covering his arm with hers, Arya pressed closer to Eragon's warmth and closed her eyes letting the persuasive sleep take control of her weariness.

Eragon lay awake for longer, he tucked the strands of her silky hair with his other hand. His gaze roved over his princess. He finally let his gaze down, and kissed the underside of her jaw. He returned his head to rest and spread his hand over her waist. He held her even closer than before.

Chapter 21: The morning view

Arya awoke to the rays of the morning sun. They steadily crept in the room and shone on her face. Her eyelids fluttering in the presence of the bright light, she moved towards the window. Eragon's arm fell limply from her body as she arose. She turned to see his sleeping face glowing under the sun's rays. His tanner than normal skin caught the light and caused his body to shine a beautiful gold color. His usual dark brown hair became a few shades lighter under the intense rays. Sighing at his magnificent sight, Arya turned away from his sleeping figure and walked towards onto the ledge. Eragon had a magnificent view of the ocean to the West. There was little vegetation from the castle to the Oceanside, except for the dense forest that surrounded the castle from the front. The view was unhindered as the sun grazed across the ocean. She felt a stirring behind her, she turned to face a now awake Eragon. His striking blue eyes were even brighter as the sun reflected itself from them. Arya doubted there were a pair of eyes as magnificent and beautiful as Eragon's.

She held her hand out to him and whispered, "Come enjoy the view."

Eragon smiled at her and whispered just as softly, "I am enjoying the most beautiful view ever." He walked over to her standing figure and kissed her lightly. He took her hand and enveloped his body around hers. He sent her an image of how she looked with the sun's rays masking her body, turning her into a beautiful silhouette against the rising sun. The green of the grass and the blue of the ocean behind her. But mostly, the way the sun brought out the peacefulness of the figure, amazed him. "And to answer your question, yes."

Arya looked at him quizzically. She did not remember posing a question. Eragon lowered his lips to capture hers once again before answering in her mind, _Your eyes are far more magnificent and beautiful than mine. There is no comparison at all._

She deepened the kiss letting the love pour through her mind. She loved the sensation of letting her emotions out, of being able to share her thoughts uncensored or her emotions unchecked with someone else. Eragon broke away and placed his lips on her forehead. They turned towards the ever rising sun before a loud knock sounded on their door.

Eragon signed as he laid his forehead against his princess's, "Why must happiness be short lived?"

"It will not always be so. There will come a time when nothing interrupts the sun rising."

Eragon gave a ghost of a smile before turning away from Arya to answer the call. "Stay here for now, I don't know who it is."

Arya nodded and watched as Eragon padded away towards the door. She turned her gaze back to stronger sun now completely visible as it rose over the castle walls.

"Arya, Nasuada summons us, no doubt she found out of our relationship. We should get there as soon as possible." Eragon headed back towards his chest and quickly changed into his breeches and a new yellow colored tunic. He strapped Brisingr to his waist and started tying his breeches together. Arya located her clothes scattered around Eragon's room. She pulled them, careful of the laces. She found a hairbrush on his mirror and began untangling her knotted hair. She hadn't realized her hair was so unkempt, _wouldn't Mother be proud to see her daughter now, all grown up and unable to maintain a head of hair._

Amused by her thoughts, Eragon strolled towards the princess and took the hairbrush from her hands. He gently ran it down her long, perfect, silky black hair as to not cause any pain when he untangled her knots. Arya closed her eyes with the sensation of Eragon running his hands through her hair. She felt him braid and tie her hair into a perfect knot in the back.

Eragon stepped back to examine his handiwork. There weren't any uneven parts of her head, and the knot was firmly in place along with the braid. Satisfied with his work, he said, "There, no more knots."

Arya was amazed at how deft Eragon was at dealing with her hair. _Another thing he is knows how to deal with when it comes to me_, she mused.

"I stand by my previous judgment. Eragon, you can cook and style hair. You are quite a feminine man." The laughter in her eyes betrayed her dead pan voice.

Eragon shook his head in a mock defeat, "Arya, iet Drottningu naunen, there was never a question as to who is the man in the relationship. It is mostly definitely not me, never even a possibility." Their playful banter eased the tension of seeing the leader of the Varden and telling her news that could potentially disrupt the Varden.

Sobering up at the knowledge of who they were about to confront, Eragon held the door open for Arya and quietly followed after her. Without a second thought, they both reached for the other's hand. Grasping it tightly they headed to Nasuada's room.

"Eragon Shadeslayer, Arya Shadeslayer, I would like to speak with you on a personal matter."

They nodded and took their seats, Nasuada remained standing.

She continued, "It has come to my attention that the nature of your relationship may have exceeded the limits of friendship. Is this right?"

"Yes, my liege, it is. Arya and I have become mates."

Nasuada sighed, "It is to be expected then. The only qualm I have is that you did not tell me sooner. You should know by now, Eragon, that I have no problem with you being in love or someone loving you. We all need some more of that if you ask me, but you should have informed me personally. The Varden soldiers are looking for a reason to run away and with good reason, but if we can't show them we have a good relationship as liege and warrior, then they will surely flee."

"I know Nasuada, and I am truly sorry. It happened so quickly, and we didn't even think we would become mates so fast. It is not common until the relationship at least goes on for a decade or so to take the decision of becoming mates, and that too, within two weeks of admitting our love for one another, we chose it." Arya continued, "What do you think we should do now?"

"There is nothing we can do. I am certainly not punishing Eragon for falling in love, I do suggest that we make an announcement and be done with it. I shall make it tomorrow morning, until then feel free to raise rumors. Good day to the both of you. Oh and on a very informal note, Congratulations Eragon, Arya, you deserve happiness for the rest of your years."

Eragon embraced Nasuada in a sisterly hug, "Thank you for everything."

Nasuada laughed, "There is no need to thank me, I didn't actually do anything."

"You do more than you know Nasuada."

"And yet there is still more to do…" Nasuada glanced dejectedly at the pile of paperwork sitting on her desk.

"Arya, did you get settled in your room yet?"

"No, Nasuada, I did not. I have not had a chance to and last night I was very tired so Eragon was kind enough to lend me a bed for the night."

Nasuada nodded, "Yes, you did have a very trying week lately, and if I haven't expressed my relief at you being back and safe, then I am quite sorry. But the truth is, I am very glad that you still by the Varden's side. I don't think the Varden would hold without you."

Arya smiled at the dark skinned leader. She noticed that Nasuada had lines across her face, she seemed aged and stressed. These were not the signs of blossoming young woman she was supposed to become, but of an aged leader she was forced to become.

_The war has many casualties. Not all of them lose their life. There are those sentenced to a life alone, a life in sorrow, or a life in stress. Nasuada is one of them. _

_She shouldn't have to bear the burden alone. _

_She isn't, she has you, me, and the council, we will help her. And if I don't remember correctly, you were placed in a similar situation when you were of the same age. _

_This is different, Eragon, I was only an ambassador, Nasuada is a leader. _

_Yes, Arya, you were an ambassador for a Queen that disowned you, part of the Varden founders with my father, and one of the three trusted to carry the most precious thing from the King's clutches across Alagaesia. Yes Arya, you were a leader. _

_That did not make it easy, Eragon, it never made it easy. _

_Arya, look at me. _Eragon waited until Arya raised her emerald eyes to his. _I never said it was easy, but that it is possible. Nasuada is strong, she will be fine, and she has us, just like you have me, and I have you. _

Arya smiled at Eragon, and thought of – "Well then" Nasuada interrupted Arya's thoughts, "I seem to have lost you both in your mental conversations, so if you two would be so kind to leave me to my paperwork and get yourselves settled and prepared for the upcoming battle, please." Nasuada smiled playfully at the pair. Eragon shook his head and smiled back, "Take care Nasuada, we will see you soon."

Linking their hands together, Eragon and Arya, left the premises and made their way to her room. They undid the lock and entered to find a bunch of boxes stacked up and the faint outline of a bed frame in a corner. Arya did not have a view of the ocean like Eragon did, but rather a view of the courtyard and the statue of a lion in the center of it. However pretty it might have been, it was nothing compared to Eragon's view.

"Arya, why don't you just move into my room?"

"Do you realize what rumors will start?"

"Arya, we are mated, is it not customary for mated elves to live in the same dwelling?"

"Well, yes, but-" Arya stopped, she couldn't find a reason not to move in. They were already fully mated by heart and body. _And my room has a better view._ Eragon slipped his two sense into her thoughts. Arya gave him a mocking glare before relenting, "Fine, help me get this stuff across the hall into your room."

Eragon lifted his palm and the contents in the room vanished. "It's easier." He started with a grin.

"My, my dear Rider, are we getting lazy?"

"Lazy, dear princess, I think not, more like efficient." Arya rolled her eyes at Eragon's defense of him not wanting to lug around furniture. He started towards his room and placed Arya's items in the same dresser and closet as his. They were still separated within reason, but there was no empty space in his closet anymore. "Our closet, iet naunen, our closet." Arya smiled in spite of herself, her toes curling with his body so close to hers and his voice so resonate in her ears.

Chapter Twenty One: A Burden Unexpected

The floor shook with the sound of the Varden bells. Eragon turned and ran towards the dragonhold.

_Saphira! The bells have sounded! We are under attack! _

_I am coming little one! I have my armor here. _

Eragon donned his armor, leaving Arya in his room to put hers on. Eragon put Saphira's on with magic and the two took off in full battle form.

"Shadeslayer!" Eragon looked down quickly to locate the voice. He found Jormunder in the crowds waving at him. Eragon leapt from Saphira's back and landed in front of him.

"There are about five thousand soldiers coming from the direction of Gilead. The Red Rider is with them."

Eragon contemplated the new information, "Five thousand, small enough to go unnoticed and formidable enough to launch an attack and stall until more reinforcements come. Jormunder, send a scout past these coming armies to see if there is indeed another wave of soldiers coming later."

"Yes, Shadeslayer, but I fear that these soldiers are not the normal kind."

Everything in Eragon stilled, "Jormunder, are these soldiers more of the brainwashed kind?"

"Yes, Shadeslayer, they are and they are moving at a inexpressible speed. We have not the time."

"Very well, we shall move into battle formation."

Eragon searched for Blodgarm and sent out a call, _Blodgarm? _

_Yes Shadeslayer. _

_We are under attack of with the same soldiers that I suspect were sent to Gilead to fortify that stronghold again. They had their course changed by the Red Rider. He accompanies as well. These soldiers are the ones who will stop at nothing to kill. I need you to round up the elves and start to attack with bow and arrow from the top of the towers. We need to kill as many soldiers as possible before they get to hand to hand combat. I suspect there will be another wave of soldiers coming soon. _

_And the Red Rider? Surely you need some help with him. _

_Actually, my last trip to Ellesmera has given me the means to defeating the Red Rider without outside help. I thank you for your help in the battles I have had, however, I am pleased to say that I no longer need support. _

_Very well, Shadeslayer, I shall do as you command. _

_Good luck Blodgarm, may the stars watch over you. _

_And you as well Shadeslayer._

Eragon cut the connection between the elven spellweaver and himself and focused on the ever lasting presence in his mind.

_Arya, were you listening?_

_Yes, I heard everything, I have gathered the archers on the farside of the wall. The other spellcasters are with me. _

_Do you see Murtagh? I do not know how he is able to fight again so soon. With the wounds put on Thorn, he shouldn't be fighting for a good month or so._

_Black magic, Eragon, it must be, there have been rumors that the king is well versed in the power of black magic, and Thorn is flying at a reasonable pace, circling above the soldiers. _

_Arya, these are the same soldiers that feel no pain. They are not to be given mercy. Tell the soldiers to aim for their heads, that is the only place where they will stop fighting if they are struck. _

_I know Eragon, they have already been informed. _

_Arya…_

_It is alright Eragon, we have been in battles before._

_Not like this, iet Drottningu, never like this, I have never fought with my heart and soul at a place on the other side where I cannot reach it in time, I have never fought with so much at stake. _

_We will not lose, Eragon, we have you, I have you. I love you iet Shurtugal. Stay safe for me. _

_Iet __evarínya nuanen, I love you, be careful, I cannot lose you Arya. _

_Do not dwell on what has not yet happened, we shall prevail today. The Varden will win this battle. Are you ready to face Murtagh?_

As ready as I will ever be. Will you stay in my mind? I'd rather not leave, but if it is a distraction, then we shall shut each other's minds off.

_I believe we should Eragon, it might prove to be a bigger distraction than we would expect. Is Glaedr with you? _

_He is with Saphira. We deemed it the safest place since we moved to the castle walls. _

_Very well, good luck Eragon, until we meet again._

_Until we meet again, my love. _

Eragon pulled his mind from Arya's immediately missing the presence that became essential to his well being. He walked up to his majestic dragon and whispered in her ear.

"Are we ready Saphira?"

_We are Eragon, and we are one._

Eragon merged his mind fully with his dragon, hiding nothing from her, not his memories or his feelings.

_Are you well rested Saphira?_

_Yes, I was just waking up as the bell sounded. I am fully recovered. _

_That is good news, Saphira, do you see Thorn? It seems like he has fully recovered from all of his injuries. _

_Glaedr – elda has deduced that Thorn and Murtagh were subject to black magic, regrowing his limbs and growing bigger as well. _

_You have grown as well due to the recent spike in power we both have had. He has grown, but not as much as you. _

_True, can you beat Murtagh? _

_Murtagh alone, yes, but if the same happens to us as to Oromis and Glaedr – elda, then I know not. _

_In any case, we shall find out._

A deep wise voice filled their minds.

_Eragon – finarel, do not doubt yourself, you are more powerful than Anurin, Vrael, or your father. You have the blood of the Grey Folk, you have their ancient power, there is no enemy that will defeat you and Saphira. Murtagh and Galbatorix are only formidable because of their multiple eldunari. _

_Master, you have me as well. _

_Konungr? _

_Yes, Master Eragon, remember I am an entity of a manifestation of your power. I have a conscious and you may call on me and I will bring your second stage of power forth. _

_Little one, we will not fail. We have the power of the Alagaesia within us. _

_Let us ride Saphira, and let the wind soar us to heights impossible. Today I will become without a treacherous kin!_

Eragon leapt on to Saphira's saddle and with a deafening roar, Saphira took to the skies.

With his eyes merged with Saphira's, the pair saw Murtagh and Thorn head towards them breaking off from their defensive position.

"Murtagh! This is your last flight with Thorn! Are you prepared?"

Murtagh's eyes were filled with sorrow and hatred. "Yes, Eragon, and please bring truth to your words or you will be hurt far worse than you can imagine."

_Saphira, it seems that Murtagh does not want to be under the king's regime. _

_We have no choice, as long as he is bound, he must die. _

Saphira dove down underneath Thorn beneath a cloud so her presence would be masked. Then in a swift movement, like a snake attacking a prey, she curled her neck up and shot up through the cloud. Saphira burst to the cloud, but Thorn had already seen through her move and was making his way down to her. Avoiding his teeth barely, Saphira moved next to the red dragon as if in a dance of fire. Saphira repeated the same movement and opened her jaw let out a stream of bright blue fire at Thorn's side.

Murtagh blocked Saphira's fire from causing too much damage besides some singed saddle. Thorn snaked his head around and let out a burst of fire.

Properly anticipating what Thorn would do Eragon yelled, "Adurna!" and held his hand out. A stream of water rose from the river nearby so that water steadily came from behind Eragon to cancel out the effects of Thorn's red fire. Knowing the dragon's sight was blinded with the water in his face, Eragon thrust Brisingr through the steady flow of water, he made contact with Thorn's upper jaw, his sword going through the dragon's armor and up into his mouth. Thorn roared from behind the waterfall. Eragon pulled his sword out and Thorn pulled back.

Blinded by pain from Eragon's attack, Thorn reeled back and turned away.

"Damn you for that Eragon! Damn you for hurting him!"

Eragon heard Murtagh's cries of anguish at Thorn's pain, but paid them no attention. He could not afford mercy or pity this far into the battle.

Arya had seen Eragon fly to engage Murtagh and Thorn in a battle. She knew his power exceeded those of Murtagh's but she couldn't help her heart beating wildly at the prospect of Eragon being in danger. She pushed thoughts of uneasiness out of her head and looked to see how much time they had.

"Arya Drottningu!"

Arya turned to see Blodgarm and the others in Eragon's command run towards her.

"What is it?"

"Shadeslayer has left us to your command as expected, and we have brought grim news. Shadeslayer was indeed right. There are armies exceeding fifty thousand making their way over the hill about three leagues away. They will be here by nightfall."

"Then we shall have to fight in the coolness of the night."

Arya glanced back towards Eragon, they needed him to fight the soldiers and possible make an aerial attack on the oncoming soldiers. He needed to finish Murtagh off quickly.

_Eragon! It is I Arya. _

_What is it? Is something wrong?_

_Your suspicions were right. There is an army of thirty thousand not three leagues away, the best chance we have is to attack them from above before they can get to the Varden. _

_I understand, Arya, I shall finish this fight quickly. _

_Saphira are you ready to finish the battle? _

_Yes, we must before the king realizes that his Rider has no chance. _

Eragon directed Saphira towards an injured Thorn. He himself balanced himself on Saphira's tail. The blue dragon flew at an incredible speed towards the Murtagh and at the last minute flicked her tail at him. Eragon went flying in the air taking Murtagh by surprise. He knocked the red rider off the saddle and they both went flying.

With Brisingr poised at Murtagh's throat, Eragon plunged it straight through. Murtagh yelled in pain as the pair of brothers hurtled towards the ground.

Saphira snaked around Thorn and ripped at his throat, pulling it out completely. She left his body in the air and went to get catch Eragon before he hit the ground.

Brisingr locked deep in Murtagh's throat, it began to light in flames, burning his throat completely.

Murtagh raised his hand to Eragon's neck and clasped it tightly. Eragon felt a presence in his head and he recognized at his brother's.

_Eragon, you are stronger, good you will need it. I am glad it was us that died today. But you must listen to me. These battles are distractions. The king has tons of these weak men, but he grows an army from the Westlands. He has made a treaty with those bastards and now they send their armies in hope of a trade agreement. They will attack the Varden from behind, you must be prepared for them. They have ships and animals and weapons that we know nothing of. Do not underestimate their strength. They will destroy in hours what these soldiers can in days. Be careful, they will be here within a month. Now finish this job! Take my life from me!_

_Thank you Murtagh._

_Do not thank me, do not mourn me, fight for me, fight for what I was, not what I became. Fight for my memory, for the blood between us, for the friendship between us. Eragon there is no time, I am keeping him out, you must take my life. _

_Good bye Murtagh, my brother. _

_Good bye Eragon, my brother. _

"Jierda!" Eragon screamed. The Rider heard a deafening crack in the neck of his brother.

Tears streaming down his face, his dead brother in his arms, Eragon felt the beautiful blue dragon sweep underneath and catch his falling body. Saphira pulled out of the dive and rose into the air.

A loud splash echoed in the valley as they felt Thorn's maimed body hit the water and sink deep underneath the river.

_Saphira, Murtagh should be with his dragon. _

_I agree, he was an honorable man. _

Eragon dropped Murtagh's body over the exact place Thorn had fallen. He watched as Rider and Dragon, sank deep within the waters, a feeling of peace etched on their faces forever. Eragon and Saphira headed back towards the Varden. They observed the Empire's soldiers number decrease significantly as the arrows felled their bodies. Due to the long distance capabilities of an elven bow, there were only a hundred or so soldiers left attacking the castle. And as the Urgals and men attacked, there was soon an empty battlefield save for the bloody bodies that covered the ground. Saphira flew to the side of the castle towards Arya. He heard cries of "The slayer of the Red Rider returns!!" "Victory be ours! The killer of the Red Rider returns!" Eragon could barely stop the bile rising in his mouth, if only they knew how much pain he was in because of it. He located Arya and quickly found her, worry etched on her face. He felt her gently prod her mind, but he denied her entrance. Instead he walked over and greeted her in the formal elven way, causing Arya to knit her brows in worry, he spoke again. 

"Arya svit-kona, we must move quickly to attack the soldiers that are approaching. Would you accompany us on this mission?"

"Of course Shadeslayer, I shall."

Eragon nodded, his eyes brimming with tears as he got on Saphira's back. Arya followed close behind him and circled her arms around his waist lightly, but comfortingly. Saphira took off with a roar, shaking the men around her into a feeling of fear. She lifted her wings and powerfully took off towards the skies.

_My love, what is wrong? _

_Not now Arya, I will tell you all when the battle is over. But now, I must keep myself locked up. _

_Very well, we shall talk again soon. Are you hurt at all?  
_

_No, they did not scratch us at all. How did the fight fair for you?_

_Well, the arrows and the aim ensured that the soldiers were reduced significantly in numbers. They were hardly a problem. _

_That is good news. _

_The armies should be about a league away, the sun has almost fallen, and I see rain clouds in the distance. _

_It will rain soon, and from the looks of it, there will be lightning as well. Nothing like rain on the day of a battle in the night. _

_Little ones, I see the armies to the north. We shall engage them from here. _

Saphira climbed down the skies and picked up very large boulders from the valley with ease. She headed towards the soldiers and dropped the boulder in the center of the moving army. They heard screams and scampering of foot soldiers. Saphira was relentless in her assault, she lit the entire ground on fire so that several platoons of men became ashes. Eragon swiftly killed the leaders of the platoons turning the soldiers into a frenzy. The soldiers ran towards the Varden stronghold even faster. They would arrive within fifteen minutes with a dragon on their heels. Arya let the green magic flow through her as she broke branches of the trees to descend and impale many fleeing soldiers. Saphira flew in front of the frenzy and landed in front of the soldiers like an impassable gate to heaven. She let out a breath of fire that burned thousands of soldiers as it spanned the ground in front of her. By the time the three finished their aerial assault, the numbers had been reduced to a mere twenty five thousand.

_Eragon, we should head back now and prepare the Varden. _

_No not yet. I have an idea. I am not in a position to do any strategic planning. I suggest you and Saphira head back and direct the Varden, I shall stay back and fight with my sword. _

_Against these armies?! Eragon it is a suicide mission. _

_Do not fear for me, these are common soldiers, I can kill many at a time. It will give time for the Varden to get their foot soldiers ready and then they can join me in battle. _

_Arya I agree with Eragon, he will be fine, we should prepare everyone else. _

_Fine, then we shall head back. _

_Thank you. _

Eragon moved to get off of his dragon. Arya jumped off behind him and gripped his arm tightly. He turned to face her with his troubled eyes. She quickly closed the distance between them. She kissed him fiercely, pouring what emotions she had for him in her kiss. "I love you Eragon, please be careful."

"Arya, I am sorry for not opening up to you, but know that I love you as well. You shall know soon enough why I am guarded at the moment. Forgive me."

"Eragon, there is nothing to forgive, we shall return shortly. Until then, stay safe."

Eragon nodded as Arya headed back towards the stronghold of the Varden. He turned to face the oncoming brigade of soldiers. With a low whisper of menace, Eragon released the true form of his sword and charged the soldiers. The flames constantly rode up and down his double bladed weapon. With deadly speed, he began cutting through the ranks of the army. Soldiers who dared come near had limbs taken from them, others had their heads cut off, still others suffered greatly at the flames erupting from his sword. Sickened by the sight, Eragon focused his attention on the oncoming soldiers.

He was fighting for well over thirty minutes, felling over two hundred men. His energy in great reserves, Eragon did not feel tired at all, so he broke the necks of a platoon of men still in formation, about a hundred feet from his position. They fell with a nasty thud raising feelings of panic among the remaining soldiers. He repeated the same feat on another group of soldiers. He felt his energy become deplete as he continued to use magic to kill groups of soldiers ranging anywhere from fifty to one fifty. Not wanting to take any chance, Eragon drew upon energy from the charged crowd of soldiers to create barriers of fire which would light the soldiers in flames if they crossed it. Satisfied with his barriers, Eragon watched as the soldiers repeatedly tried to get at him, but were stopped by the constant erupting flames. He was amazed at his proficiency with magic. Not only was he able to fell two hundred fifty soldiers by hand, he was able to take down over five thousand with this surge in magic. And now, he was able to create a spell that drew upon the strength of the soldiers themselves, those that were alive anyway, to burn them if they crossed a certain barrier.

His thoughts turned towards Murtagh's words as he watched the soldiers run towards their deaths. Eragon wondered how he could not have seen it. There were no magicians with these soldiers. They were expendable, of course Galbatorix would have had another race join the war. The battles were all distractions, every damn one of them. He was sick at the king's cruel joke, Eragon let his rage flow through him. He faintly heard the soldiers of the Varden behind him as he looked to see Arya and Saphira land next to him. Arya examined his handiwork and turned to look at him.

Eragon looked at the ground, "There is nothing left to do here. I have created a spell where all those who attempt to cross that barrier will be burned, it is being upheld by their own strength. They will all come at me, they are trained to do so, as such they will not stop, but they will not succeed either."

Arya looked at her love, never had he been this cold during a battle. Eyes that were filled with emotion were filled with absolutely nothing now. She always thought his eyes readable, but now even she couldn't tell what his emotions his eyes were showing.

"Disgust, contempt, and brutality Arya." Eragon looked at her. "Those are the expressions ruling my eyes now."

"I do not believe it, there is something clouding your mind."

"There is always something."

"Not like this, not even Saphira would open up to me. And don't even be surprised that I asked, you know exactly the nature of our relationship and you must know that I would not have stopped seeking the reason to your anguish because you asked me to."

"I know Arya, I did not expect anything less." Eragon looked back at the bloody scene in front of him.

"Shadeslayer!" A voice called Eragon back from the tortures of his mind. He turned to see one of the Varden generals running to him accompanied with Nasuada.

"What is happening here, why can they not cross?"

"My liege," Eragon answered dutifully, "I have placed measures so that if they attempt to cross they will die, and since they have no minds of their own, they will all die in their attempts to cross. As far as the other matter goes, the Red Rider has been slain. His and his dragon's body now lie deep within the river in the valley."

"That is indeed good news. Since there is nothing to be done here, and the numbers left of the soldiers have been reduced to a pathetic amount, I would like you to rest with other warriors who have fought since morning. The Urgals and the men can take care of any strays or those who could possibly cross the barrier. Rest well Eragon, there will be a storm tonight."

Eragon nodded and got on Saphira, Arya close behind. Saphira flew to the dragonhold, and landed softly. _Little ones, go to your room, sleep well tonight, I shall stay here, I am quite weary of war, I need my rest. _

Eragon got down and kissed the forehead of his beloved dragon, "You fought well today Saphira."

_And I hated every minutes of it. Good night, leave me to my thoughts and sorrows. I killed a dragon today, something I never wanted to do, and now it seems I must kill another in this war._

_Good night Saphira. We shall talk in the morning. _

Arya stroked Saphira's side in an effort to soothe the tormented dragon. Eragon watched her with guarded eyes before abruptly turning towards their room. Arya sighed and followed him out, his thoughts were far too heavy for him to be in this much suffering. She saw Eragon enter their room. She quietly slipped in the open door and came face to face with Eragon with his back turned towards her.

Chapter Twenty Two: The Fear grows

She barely felt Eragon prod her mind, and had she not been constantly searching for a way in, she wouldn't have. She let her barriers down and Eragon slipped in just as she slipped in his. Arya was pulled into a vast darkness, very unlike the usual Eragon. There was no peaceful sounds of running water or the sounds of a flute playing a beautiful melody. Eragon still guarded his emotions, but not from her, he locked them from himself. Arya, in an effort to console him, laid a hand on the center of his back.

"Eragon…are you ready to tell me?"

His eyes filled with tears, Eragon let his locked emotions flow through him. With great speed, he whirled around and clutched Arya to him. He buried his face in her neck inhaling the comforting smell of pine cones. His arms locked her body to him, basking in her comforting presence. He was shaking with tears.

Arya ran her hands down his back in an effort to soothe him, she felt his anguish, but could not place the reason behind it. His mind was too clouded to see the reason, so she opted to wait instead for her love to open up. She led him to the bed and carefully held his head to her heart while running her hands through his ever so soft hair to each his tension.

"Ssh Eragon, everything will be fine, we both survived this battle, and we will do so again."

"Arya, I killed an innocent man."

"The Eragon I know isn't capable of it."

"The Eragon you know is gone then."

"No, he is right in front of me, tortured and hurt more than ever, there is so much pain in his heart that I can't even find the reason to his anguish. What is wrong? What happened?"

"Murtagh was forced to serve the king, and even in his end, he gave information that would save the Varden. He was forced to betray me, that is no betrayal. He tried to die many times, had it not been for Galbatorix he would have. I killed him instead of saving him, I killed my own brother. He loved me Arya, he fought for me, he fought the king till the last second to keep from taking over his body so I could kill him and I did. What kind of brother am I? What kind of family am I? I am one filled with so much hatred that I cannot place my friends from foes."

"No Eragon, you did what you had to do, Murtagh was a threat, willingly or not, he was a threat, you did not kill the Murtagh you knew, that man died the same day he disappeared after the battle of Farthen Dur. The man you killed today was a Rider under Galbatorix's regime, nothing more than an image, you caught a glimpse of the man that used to live in Murtagh's body, a glimpse of his true essence, but that is all. Murtagh could not have been saved. You did nothing wrong, you freed him from his pain, his memories."

Eragon lifted his tear-stricken face to glance at Arya. He leaned his head closer to his elf's. Pausing momentarily above her face, he observed his beloved's face – etched with worry at his pain, love for him, and a unquenchable desire.

Unable to take the wait any longer, Arya raised her head up to meet his lips with hers. His mouth moved over hers fervently. She felt his tongue sweep across her teeth seeking an entrance. She obliged and engaged her tongue in their kiss. What seemed like hours passed before Eragon broke away from her lips.

"Thank you, iet Drottningu, iet skolir (my shield), you protect me from the darkness of my own mind. I love you Arya, I love you so much, I don't think I would have made through today's fight without you. Please, just hold me tonight."

"I love you Eragon, and I promise I will protect you from anything. Now rest, we have had trying days."

Eragon rested his head in the crook of Arya's neck, she faintly felt the tears drip from his eyes and roll down her neck. She gently raked her fingers across his scalp. When she felt his breathing change and finally fall asleep, Arya held his head close to her and placed one hand over his much more muscular one draped across her waist. She took comfort in his warm breath steadily hitting her sensitive skin.

This battle had been an unusual one, she didn't fight at all. Well, not in the usual way, at least. She used only strategy and magic, and even the strategy was Eragon's idea. _That's right, it was his idea to hit from afar. He is truly a genius when it comes to battle planning. I should bring him to the war councils from now on, he could bring a new way to attack and defend the stronghold. _

Arya soon began contemplating how different had become after Eragon had entered the war. Before Saphira had hatched, the war was a game of mouse and lion, Arya laughed at the analogy remembering how Eragon said he felt when he first approached her mother for the Riders secrets. They only chance they really had was in tricks and surprise attacks. But now, with Eragon, even before the power gain, the Varden were able to hold and win ground in a full frontal battle. Arya thought back to the first time Eragon fought in a true battle. He was nowhere as good of a swordsman then as he was now, but he still felled many enemies and countless Urgals, and even defeated at least fifty Kull on his travels with Murtagh. For a Rider of barely six months at that time, Eragon was quite warrior. He was able to defeat or come to a standstill with Murtagh who spent years training with the best swordsman of the Empire's. _He is the son of Brom after all. _Arya drifted off to sleep, weary from the day's events and wearier from spending most of the day away from safety of Eragon's mind in hers.

It was well through midday when Eragon arose. His head was still resting on Arya's small body. He looked up at her and saw she was awake, but she made no move to get herself up. Instead, she scooted down so her head was level with his. She lifted her hand to tuck his unkempt hair behind his ear. Eragon caught her hand when she attempted to remove it, he brought it to her lips and held it near his heart, unrelenting in his grip. Arya gave him a smile, the one she only used with him. His heavy heart seemed to physically lighten when she gave him that smile. He closed his eyes and chuckled at the knowledge.

Knowing what he was thinking, Arya leaned in closer and gave me a heart stopping kiss. She loved his unguarded thoughts, nothing he thought was ever hidden from her, he trusted her enough with his memories, all of them.

"Arya…we need to go to the war council. Murtagh's information requires planning starting now. We cannot waste anytime."

"I know, Blodgarm has informed me that they will meet at approximately two thirty in the evening, you and Saphira are expected to be there."

"Have you spoken with Saphira at all?"

"Yes, she contacted me earlier this morning to say she was going hunting, and then discussed what happened and her distresses along with yours. I told her the same things I told you, and they seemed to help, but the loss of one of her kin is devastating to her. As it is to you as well."

"It is easier on me, men have long killed other men, but a dragon killing another dragon is something the dragons would never have thought could happen to their race. Thank you with speaking with her."

Arya nodded and ruffled Eragon's hair a bit, "We should head down shortly. Saphira is coming back soon."

Eragon left the warmth of his bed covers and put his tunic and a pair of felt pants on before locating his sword and clasping it to his side. It was still stained with blood from the previous battle. Closing his eyes, he slipped his sword back in its scabbard and waited for Arya to finish changing.

They headed towards the courtyard, the war council had shifted there to make room for Saphira. Eragon walked towards the Nasuada and the various generals from all of the races, most greeted him as "Shadeslayer." Others as "Argetlam" "Shurtugal" but one stuck out the most, from Trianna of the Du Vrangr Gata, she addressed him as "Riderslayer."

Eragon winced as he heard that name, but nonetheless nodded his acknowledgement of the witch. Sensing his discord, Arya laced his fingers with Eragon's, raising the eyebrows of many and the anger of Trianna's. The witch was fuming as she turned away to look at the leader of the Varden. Eragon turned to Arya and kissed the top of her head and mouthed a silent, "Thank you" when he felt the waves of love and adoration pouring through his mind because of their mental connection.

"Which brings me to my next order of business." Nasuada continued, "As you can see, Eragon and Arya are in love and they have the blessings and well wishes of the entire Varden. Their feelings are to be respected, no one is to make threatening gestures because of their relationship. Make announcements to your men, and we shall take it from there."

"Will there be a marriage?" one of the human generals piped in.

Nasuada calmly answered, annoyed at spending too much time on her vassal's love life, "Elves do not have marriage, they have a binding of the hearts and call themselves mates, they are as good as married, and are bounded just as strongly as any other ceremony. Now I would like to move the pressing business."

"My liege," Eragon piped in, "Thank you for your kind words, but I have knowledge that the Red Rider has given to me before he died."

"What is it Shadeslayer?"

"The Red Rider had brought to my attention that the Varden will soon be attacked from the West side, the side of the ocean. Galbatorix apparently has sent delegates to explore the West, they reports have come back with news of a civilization much more brutal and grotesque as ours. They have the means of destroying a city in minutes, and they are coming within a month. The king has focused our attention on defending our stronghold here in Surda and gaining land by sending us disposable soldiers, soldiers that have the worst leaders, or no leaders at all. There are no magicians protecting these soldiers even though doing so would make them much more formidable. These soldiers are simply a distraction to keep the Varden from protecting their back and keep moving forward. If within the month, we are not ready to protect ourselves from all fronts, we will surely lose no matter if the king is still alive or not."

"Is there any chance the Red Rider was lying?"

"No, the information is correct, I have my means of knowing General, and I know he was telling the truth."

Catching his underlying knowledge, Nasuada changed the topic, "What do propose we do?"

"My lady, I suggest we build mechanisms to attack these ships from far away, like catapults but able to shoot farther and much heavier stones. We also must set up barricades in the water-"

"This is preposterous Shadeslayer, how do we do that? I think this is one of the King's tricks."

"Do not talk about that Rider like that! You have no idea as to what he did for all of you! His is the most reliable source we have, and if we do not prepare then General we will have nothing to protect left. As far as how, let me explain. Ships have a low density than water, enabling them to float. Because of this, the volume of the ships often cause them to be below the surface about two to three feet depending on the size, but no more than four. We place metal pikes just below the visible surface line, not in a line, but a vast network of pikes – ranging one hundred by one hundred feet across the span of the water, we place it around five hundred feet from the coastline, and as far as suspend the network, Saphira and I will dive down and attach the support system in the most reasonable place. The ships will have no choice but to come in contact with the pike system, the ships will sink and the enemies will drown in the water. As far as the land fighting goes, we need similar mechanisms in the ground, operated by men however. Barbed and pointed spears will be placed together forming a wall of sorts, and when these animals step on the land the wires will rise impaling their bodies. In other areas, we will dig holes and cover them with foliage to cover their presence. When the initial stampede comes, they will fall into the holes and at the bottom will more spears and spikes await them."

Jormunder was the first to speak, "From a strategic point of view, these ideas are novel and are bound to help in someway, we have no reason to doubt the honesty of Eragon Shadeslayer's words about the upcoming threat from the sea. We should start preparing these as soon as possible."

"I agree with the Shurtugal." Eragon turned to look at the elven general, he had never spoken to Eragon directly before, in fact the elf had barely ever acknowledged his existence without Saphira around. The elf continued, "Eragon Shurtugal has proven himself many times, there is no reason not to pay attention to his words, I shall have my soldiers make the system of pikes for the water. They shall be ready within a week."

Eragon nodded towards the elf, "Thank you, General. I appreciate your help."

Orik spoke next, "Argetlam, the dwarves will take care of the catapult system. I shall have my best forgers discuss plans for depth and power increase. It will be done."

Eragon nodded towards his foster brother, following again with his thanks.

Nasuada continued next, "And your men General Halton, will take care of the preparations of the spikes and the pits. I shall personally oversee your development."

"There is something else milady, we must not let Galbatorix know we know of his plan, else he will attack with full force sooner than expected and then our position will be compromised."

"The only companies that shall move out are the dwarves under King Orik, General Halton's men, and Commander Alinor's elven company. The others shall stay here and move slowly within the following days towards the coast. You are all dismissed to your respective duties."

Still hand – in – hand, Eragon and Arya left with Saphira towards the river. Eragon let the tears fall freely as he remembered his lost brother, he became determined to give them a funeral they would be honored to have.

Eragon sand diamond from the ground and carved into it with beautiful calligraphy of the Ancient Language, _Buried in these waters are Rider Murtagh and his Great Red Dragon Thorn. Together, they struggled and prevailed in the realm past this one. May their memory be loved, and their deeds legendary. Let their souls rest in peace as the world they fought for moves from one era of war to an era of peace._

_It is a fine burial Eragon, they would have appreciated it._

_Thank you Saphira. _

The sapphire dragon bent her head and touched the diamond stone, the stone changed form into a flying Thorn and Murtagh, the color changed from a pure white to a blood red color, one that matched the color of Thorn's scales.

Eragon rubbed Saphira's snout in a comforting gesture. He knew she was in as much pain as she was. "Come Saphira, we should head back. The longer we tarry, the less time we have."

_Little one, you should wipe the grime and evidence of war from your body._

_I do need a bath don't I, there is one in my room, I'll go back to it I guess._

_Get on, little ones, I shall fly you back. _

Eragon and Arya willingly obliged. They hopped on the saddle and Saphira flew them back towards their room. Eragon left to warm up the water in preparation of cleaning the dirt off of him. He let the water flow off of him and into the drain taking any evidence of war from his body. Unwilling to leave the hot water, he closed the drain off and let the water rise to soak in. He heard the door to his room creek and he turned to see Arya walk in. She was dressed in a simple robe, but took it off as she stepped in the hot water. Eragon's eyes never left her naked body, they roved over her taking in her beauty. Arya settled herself on Eragon's lap, already feeling the desire of his body's demands. She leaned against him and closed her eyes. Eragon wrapped his arms around her bare stomach and held her close.

Chapter Twenty Three: A market walk

Some time later, when the water lost its heat, Eragon motioned that he was getting up, Arya got up and they both changed into fresh clothes.

"Arya, it has been a while since we visited the markets."

"Eragon, I have never been to a market before."

"Really, how come? Surely a princess has visited the markets."

"No, a princess has the markets visit her, and an ambassador has no time for markets."

Eragon laughed at the knowledge, stepping in closer he brought his arms around her and whispered, "What of a lover, does a lover have time for markets?"

"A lover has time for anything." Arya replied smiling.

"Let us be off then."

Their arms intertwined, the new couple walked across the marketplace. They spotted some interesting shops, but what caught Arya's eye the most was a certain jewelry shop. She claimed to have wanted to look at the flowers over there, but she had forgotten Eragon was in her mind and knew exactly what she was looking at – a certain emerald pendant on a beautifully twisted silver chain. The pendant was surrounded by a silver casing with two bands shaped in vines holding it in place. When Eragon asked what she was looking at, she merely replied, "Just looking." And turned away.

Quickly, Eragon asked the price for it and gave the coins in exchange for the chain and the pendant. He hid it in his pouch and followed before Arya had noticed he had not followed, in order to avoid her questioning, he snagged a yellow daisy and placed it in her hand. He smiled down at her and unsuspectingly she smiled back. They continued to walk through the marketplace, stopping at shops that seemed interesting. Arya bought a tunic for Eragon in her favorite color, the dark purple of the Black Morning Glory, and a forest green one for herself. Most of their clothes were either too dirty or ripped from all their travel experiences. Some they knitted back with magic, but others they deemed wasteful to even use magic to put them back together.

Arya still had no idea that Eragon bought the emerald pendant she was examining so closely. She looked at the shops once more to see if she wanted anything else, decided she didn't, and walked towards their room once more. The sun was starting to come down and the cool winds of the nights already swept through the city. Eragon tucked his arm around his princess's waist and held her tightly. They made their way quickly through the crowds thanks to their elven agility and were in their room in a matter of minutes.

Eragon watched as Arya packed away the items they bought in the closet, she smiled at him and walked over to the terrace. The sun was now falling over the ocean and instead of yellow, orange, and red in the sky, there was distinct hues of dark red, purple, and blue across the ocean. "It's magnificent isn't Eragon, this is truly beautiful. Although," Arya's voice became solemn, "it is quite hard to imagine the downfall of Alagaesia coming from a sight as beautiful as this."

"Do not worry yourself with such thoughts, we have the means of fighting against them, all we need to do is implement them."

"I meant to tell you, Eragon you are quite a genius strategist, I doubt we would have won the battle yesterday if it had not been for your idea of using the elves' long distance bow. Quite a good idea."

"What can I say? I do have moments of surprising intelligence."

Arya chuckled at his jest, _what man could be confident in himself that he can make a joke of it?_

"Simple," Eragon made his way over to his elf and ran his hands down her sides while moving his body closer to hers, "it is because he has those who believe in him. More specifically, he has a Dragon and an elven princess who believe in him." Eragon gave her a lopsided grin, reminding her of a naughty elven child caught by his parents after doing something utterly ridiculous. Smiling back, she ruffled his hair turning it shaggy and unkempt before running her hand through it and smoothing it back away from his forehead. His eyes changed from mischievous to desiring in a manner of seconds. Knowing the effect she had on him, she leaned in and gently kissed her beloved Rider. Eragon pulled away and whispered, "I have something for you." He brought the emerald necklace out and held it in front, "But wait one second, I want to mark it for you." He said some words in the Ancient Language and Arya could see the bright blue of his magic transform into green and darken and mark it in place. When it was done, Eragon held it out to her. Grasping the pendant, she recognized it as the one she was looking at in the shop. She smiled at Eragon, leaning in to kiss him again, but he stepped back and remarked, "Look again, closer." Surprised, Arya turned to look at the pendant once again and saw the most beautiful outline in the stone, a perfect carving of her and her name Arya Drottningu inscribed beneath it. Her black hair was made of a dark shiny silver and her face and body were traced by a darker green, her clothes were outlined by the same silver lining, only in a lesser concentration to give the light shiny silver. The Arya in the pendant wore an expression of utter happiness, smiling, laughter etched in her features, much more beautiful than the real her.

"That is not true, that is you, that is what you look like, that is beauty incarnate, your beauty, Arya, how can you even think that picture of you is more beautiful than you? She is you."

Arya looked up at Eragon, the words stuck in her throat.

He grinned widely at her, the look in her eyes told him how much she loved it. Eragon took the necklace from her hands and fastened it around her neck. He kissed her lips softly and turned to change. An arm gripped his and he turned to face his princess once again. "Thank you." she whispered so softly, he didn't even think he could hear it. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes, and for the life of him he couldn't tell why. Truly defenseless against her tears, Eragon closed the distance and brought her head over his beating heart. He moved his thumb over her face wiping the tears away and soothing her shaking body. "Iet Drottningu naunen, what is wrong? I can face the most powerful of enemies, but you know I am bound to fail against your tears."

Arya couldn't speak with words, so she let actions show exactly what was wrong. She lifted her head slowly against the strong Rider's and fastened her mouth to his. Threatening to suffocate him with her kiss, Arya reached her hands underneath his tunic and pulled it over his head ruthlessly. She forced him back towards their bed, locking the door with magic and leaving all but one candle burning.

MATURE CONTENT – LIME, DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE OFFENDED

Eragon slipped his hands underneath her loose clothing to graze over her perfect body. He watched as she slipped the material over her head leaving her upper body bare under his gaze. He deemed it impossible to control his desire any longer; he flipped positions with his beloved elf and easily removed his and her clothes. They kissed fiercely, letting their desires rule their bodies and minds. The sun continued to set as the two lovers remained oblivious to time. Locked in each other's bodies, they continued to soar to the greatest of heights, with no other thoughts but of their love for one another.

Arya lay a few hours later feeling the aftershocks of such an explosive love, she was never this drained of energy and Eragon was not her first lover either. To tell the truth, Faolin was nowhere near Eragon when it came to skills in love making, but exactly how Eragon knew so much was beyond her, but she didn't care. The only thing that mattered was how much he loved her and how much she loved him.

* * *

Eragon kissed her slowly, in stark contrast to their wild experience in each other's arms, he moved to his head to her ear and whispered, "I do believe I fulfilled the promise of next time being in a bed."

Arya laughed, the beauty of the moment escalating, "Yes, iet liduen Shurtugal (my poetic Rider), you more than fulfilled your promise." Arya pushed him down once again and draped her tired body over his. She found the strength to lift a leg in between his and curved her body so her head was resting on his muscular chest. Eragon absently played with hair, running his hands through in a soothing sensation. He pulled the blanket over her sleeping body so she wouldn't feel the chill of the cool air. He wrapped his arms around his princess and fell asleep with dreams of a time when nothing but happiness filled his soul.

The sun rose with an astonishing heat. The coolness of the breeze evaporated under the sun's fiery temper.

_Little ones, do not tarry too long, there is a war council in an hour. _Saphira's beautiful voice resonated in his mind, slowly bringing his consciousness from his dreams.

_Thank you Saphira, will you be there this time? _

_I suppose I shall attend, I am getting quite bored in this dragonhold. _

_Would you like to go flying after the war council then? It's been a while since we have flown together…well at least when we weren't in a battle. We should try those new movements in the Rider records the Queen gave us. _

_That we shall do. Has Arya awoken?_

Eragon glanced down to check the status of his elf. _No, I am afraid not, she is still quite asleep. _

_Ah well, it is to be expected, no wonder elves are famous for being late. _

_If you don't mind Saphira, I would rather not tell her that. I have a feeling that just because she loves me, I am far from escaping her wrath. _

_You have grown wiser little one._

_I doubt avoiding Arya's wrath makes me wiser, I made the decision based on experience, not intelligence. _

_Quite a joker you are this morning, wake Arya and meet in the courtyard, you need to eat your breakfast as well. There is not much time, and there is still much to do. _

_Where will you be until then? _

_I shall wait for the two of you by the dragon hold, come up when you are ready, I have much talking with Glaedr-elda to do. There are some new training moves that apparently Galbatorix had never learned, defeating him in a power battle may be much easier, however, Shruikan is not to be underestimated, he is still a powerful dragon with much more skill and strength than I do, and he is protected with dark elements. _

_I agree with the dark elements part, but I highly doubt he is more powerful or skillful than you. Do not forget that the power we acquired is also yours as well. We have both grown. _

_Then experienced, do not account for nothing. Eragon, you should do well not to think that your power growth, although great it is, will be enough to defeat the king. Do not be so cocky into thinking you require no more training, remember Galbatorix was not stronger than Vrael when he defeated him, but he had something Vrael could not best, the lives of Vrael's students. Everyone has a breaking point, we have ours as well. _

…_You are right Saphira, and thank you, I did forget. Thank you for reminding me with your wise words. _

_No need to thank me Eragon, just come up to me soon, we are needed as usual. _

Eragon sent the equivalent of a smile to Saphira before turning his gaze towards the sleeping princess on his chest. He began to stroke her hair, gently rousing her. However, it didn't seem to work. Sighing exasperatedly, he pulled Arya up his body and lowered his lips to hers. Coaxing and pushing at her mouth seemed to do the trick.

Arya opened her lips in surprise as she felt Eragon's expert lips tug at hers. Without a hesitation, Eragon slipped his tongue in her mouth, exploring her crevices fully. Arya moaned against his lips lifting her tongue to meet his.

Eragon broke away smiling, "Now that you are finally awake."

She sent a mocking scoff in his direction, "I was having a lovely dream."

"I did not know elves dream."

"We can if we choose to."

"What wonderful dream did I disturb you from?"

"Nothing really, just a happy feeling."

Eragon smiled down, giving her privacy, but gliding underneath her barriers to feel her familiar presence. He didn't go looking for the answer, even though he could, he was not keen to overstepping her privacy. "I am glad then, that you were having a happy dream." He kissed her one last time and told her the news of their expectance in the courtyard in a hour to discuss battle details.

Arya latched her hand to Eragon's and made her way up to the Dragonhold. She was reaching the point in their relationship when she would find the greatest solace in just walking in silence. Her thoughts wandered back to her dreams.

_The time she did not know, but she was on a cliff in some unknown place, someplace she recognized to be in her beloved forests, but unexplored to her. She saw her Rider come up from a hill, walking as the sun rose behind him. If she believed in a God, there would be no doubt that her Rider surpassed whatever it looked like. He was beauty personified. She had no care about time, there were no signs of war ravaging the land. She was in bliss loving Eragon however she wanted. _

Arya sighed deeply, there was no feeling that could have matched that happiness. When there would have been no war, no reason to worry, just the two of them in some remote area, loving each other with no previous obligations, but alas, it would not be so, not for a while.

Chapter Twenty Three: Progress

Quickly locating Saphira, Eragon and Arya took off without further delay towards the courtyard. They were greeted by the generals from the Urgals, dwarves, elves, and the humans. _The humans_, Eragon mused, _It has not been so long since I have been a human. Have I forgotten where I come from?_ He pushed his thoughts out of his and decided it didn't matter where he came from, but what he was destined to do. The greatest of the Riders came from humble backgrounds, they needn't have the lineage of a King.

_I am proud to call you my Rider Eragon, you have grown much wiser in the past years. But do not forget that you do come from a line of the Grey Folk. _

_I know Saphira, but I would rather that be kept a secret. The more people know, the more people we have to fear later on. _

_Who do we fear? _

_Saphira, remember one of Oromis-elda's lessons. We need not be Rider and Dragon to kill the king, we could be a child with a knife. Anyone, weak or strong, young or old, has the power to kill if they have the thought for it. The weaker chicken led the fox across the stream, drowning it while it flew away. The weaker deer baited the lion until it ran over a ditch, trapping it forever. Power does not win the battle. _

_Then what does Eragon? _

_That I could not tell you. _

_I can. Determination and confidence. Be confident in your powers, you are not weak. Do not revel in your powers, you are not vain either, but be confident in your success, for you are the hope. _

_Thank you Saphira. _

_Little one, I love you very much, now let us concentrate on the upcoming battle. _

Dismounting quickly, the Rider and princess swiftly made their way towards the entourage of generals and leaders situated in the courtyard. Saphira followed, much slowly, and with much power in her gait.

Nasuada turned towards their rapidly increasing size, "Good, you two are right on time. We have much to discuss, but I would like to hear the progress made."

King Orik's man spoke first, "Argetlam, Majesty, we have the measurements for the catapults and we are currently moving the necessary materials towards the coastline. No more than two and a half weeks are required to set up the system. The actual weapons of destruction are being forged and done this very moment by the best we have. The progress is quick and the force is very destructive. We shall be ready in the same time. We have developed a mechanism that can alter the range of motion by changing the angle of the projectile."

Eragon could hardly contain his excitement, "Thank you General Huvan, the pictures you paint with your words of these weapons are extraordinary. These weapons will undoubtedly change the course of the battle. What of the spikes and pillars in the land? How are they coming along?"

General Halton spoke next, he seemed somewhat forced, but not to the point of utter rudeness, "Yes, Shadeslayer, we have made significant progress. The spikes are being sharpened and the pillars to hold the ground from being discovered are being tested as well. We have found the correct measurements, and the pillars are in mass production as of right now. We, however, require only two more weeks to put these in play. They are being transported by the bundle as we speak, our best scholars are there now mapping out the area and getting the most unnoticeable foliage."

"That is indeed good news. I would like the scholars to first create a detailed map, and then as the time passes place exactly where the ditches are. Make a total of five maps – one for the leader of the Varden, one for the humans, one for the elves, one for the dwarves, and one for me as I need to know exactly where these ditches are to correctly place the catapults. Which leads to the next order of business – the ditches must the placed and perfected before the catapults are in place. The ditches will be the first enemy on the ground as the catapults will attack the sea as well as on land. The first weapon of all is of course the water mine field. We should test the weight beforehand so that in the full scale of war we have no surprises during the actual battle. Is that agreeable to all?"

"Shadeslayer, I shall have my men start the maps as soon as possible."

"Thank you General Halton, your men's progress is incredible, we should have plenty of time to test the combination of the weapons beforehand." Eragon looked towards the elven general, hoping he would deliver similar news.

"Shurtugal, we have completed the necessary trials and calculations determining the exact alloy for the pikes. We have discovered an alloy that is light enough to float, yet strong enough to pierce through many enchanted barriers. As we know not of the customs or magic of the Westlands, we have fortified the pikes. We can put those in the water in a week, however it is to my opinion that we wait until the catapults are in place before we take to the sea, any number of things can happen underneath the ocean surface, and I am not sure whether the ocean will remain calm. We should leave the pikes in their for a minimal amount, lowering the risks for any dislodgement or unforeseen accidents. I understand experience is important, but it will be a great risk to attempt to fix something that deep where even magic may not penetrate it fully. But we are ready to do whatever you deem best."

"I agree with you wholeheartedly General Deniere, and so we shall wait. I thank you for moving your plans around to take care of this pressing business so tactfully. Time is of essence, and you all have given us more of it."

Nasuada, silent through the entire conversation spoke finally, "That settles it then, Eragon Shadeslayer shall travel in two and a half weeks towards the coast to see the final production. The Generals in charge will send a representative and be in contact with them by way of the crystal water shown to us by the elves. Now we have other business to take care of."

Arya spoke next, "While the progress in defending against the enemies from the seas is immense, we must now decide how to approach defending the Varden until then from the Empire soldiers. The Red Rider is dead, and the king will be quite angry. However, he now knows that Eragon Shadeslayer is much more powerful, and so he will send much more powerful enemies against him. Remember that the last battalion sent was supposed to be the killing blow. Rider Eragon was not supposed to have defeated the Red Rider, and the soldiers of the Empire were supposed to significantly weaken the Varden until the final sweep given from the coast. How shall we defend against the upcoming soldiers?"

"Arya Shadeslayer, you have posed an interesting question there is no doubt. I suggest we defend as we have previously done so before to not arouse suspicions. We keep defending our positions as we have done in the past for the next months, when the time comes, we will abandon and go to the coast for the battle."

"Lady Nightstalker, we cannot risk the soldiers of the Varden to be attacked from behind. We cannot leave both fronts open or we will be surrounded within days. I have an alternate suggestion."

"You are right Arya, what is your idea then?"

"We call upon the elves, dwarves, and Urgals to defend the coast, while the humans stay here and defend this side of the Varden. We do not split the armies, the elves will be new soldiers, dispatched solely for this purpose, same with the dwarves and the Urgals. We need more soldiers, and the race of humans does not have anymore, the other races will be required to provide more soldiers."

"That idea is the best we have, however, I cannot say if all of the leaders will agree to it."

"My king will." General Huvan piped in, "I have the utmost faith in my King that he will do what is necessary."

"Queen Islanzadi will be informed immediately, as to whether or not she will send the warriors I know not, but I will present my case most logically and convincingly. If not, then I can contact the other soldiers individually as well."

Eragon piped in, "And the Urgals, who will convince them?"

"That Shadeslayer, shall be my task. As the leader of the Varden, I will approach the Urgals and ask for their help, no doubt they should be informed as well. I trust you have your respective tasks, this meeting is dismissed."

Eragon caught his liegelord's eye and smiled. Nasuada gave a ghost of one back before waving him away.

Eragon turned on his heels and left with Arya close behind. He whispered in her mind, _Are you ready?_

_For what Eragon? _Arya was truly confused now. She had no hint of what his plans were.

_Little ones, join me for flight, it has been awhile since I have flown just for the feeling of it. Arya I do believe you have never flown like this, usually you are asleep or deep in your _thoughts_. _

_That is true Saphira. _

Eragon leapt up in Saphira's saddle, the excitement protruding through his eyes. Arya had never seen this expression before, well, not never only when he was making love to her. Arya smiled to herself and followed quickly, settling herself at his back and enveloping his muscular body and resting her chin on his defined shoulder. Saphira leapt in the air and flew higher and higher. Eragon said something in the ancient language and immediately her view changed. Instead of the seeing the world through her eyes, she saw colors in displays she had never seen before. She was taken aback at the new sensation, trying to adjust to her new sight. It took her a moment to realize she was seeing through Saphira's eyes. Partly amazed by the great Dragon's vision and partly horrified she was bearing witness to something only Riders were she exasperated, _Eragon! What did you do? How am I seeing like this, like Saphira sees everyday?_

_There is nothing to fear little elf, all Eragon did was say the words so that our visions would meld and our minds become. Often in battle, Eragon and I join like this to know instinctively every feeling, thought, and action so we can better tune ourselves to the rhythm of the battle. It is through my eyes you are seeing, which is why you can see of thousands of leagues away and still keep the details amazingly clear. We can see enemies by the heat sensors in my eyes as well. _

_This is truly amazing, thank you for this experience, but I must ask, isn't this an intrusion of privacy, I am not a Rider, therefore I should not have this experience. _

_Oh little one, yes Eragon is my Rider, but you are his mate and as close to him as you are to me. I love the both you very much and I do not mind sharing this experience with you. Even if you and my Rider are not mates, I would still gladly give you this experience, do not forget you carried my egg for years. You are as much kin of mine had you not bonded with Eragon. _

_You honor me Saphira. _

_Honor? Bah! I do not honor you, I thank you and I love you Arya. This is not a display of honor, but of love. _

A tear formed in her eyes, it rolled down her face and hung at the edge of her face. Eragon turned to face her, knowing she was overcome with emotion. He caught the falling tear and whispered the words to turn it into a diamond. "I know, how cliché, but I could not resist."

He let the diamond fall in her palm and closed her hand around it. Eragon turned back around. _Saphira, Eragon, thank you. _

_For what little one?_

_I did not think I was capable of being loved again. But here I am, loved and cared for by most possible the most beautiful and strong dragon to rule the skies, and the most handsome and caring Rider to walk Alagaesia. Fate has blessed me to no end, thank you for that._

_Arya, iet Drottningu, I do not know the truth of gods or fate or any other belief there is. But I am most sure that I love you, and that your love is the closest to God as I will ever be, closest to fate, closest to any form of divinity. _

Saphira sent love and affection across their mental link engulfing them all. Arya held her diamond close in her hand, and returned her hands to Eragon's torso, enjoying the rest of her ride. 


	5. Chapter 2426

Chapter twenty-four: Hell hath no fury like a women scorned

It was a little past sun down when Eragon and Arya returned to the stronghold. Saphira chose to accompany them to dinner, participating in light conversation, usually poking fun at pompous generals or haughty dwarves or obnoxious elves. As if on cue, a women started yelling and screaming outside the dinner hall, undoubtedly aware of Eragon's presence.

"SHADESLAYER! YOU BLOODY BASTARD! How dare you think you can murder just about anyone, what gives you the right to judge and try others? You are a monster. You are no better than the rest of them. You…you are the one responsible for my husband's death. YOU MURDERED HIM! ROT IN HELL! YOUR MONSTER OF A FATHER WAS TEN TIMES THE MAN YOU ARE!"

Taken aback by her accusations, Eragon hurriedly left the dining hall against the wishes of Arya to face the women. She was being restrained by two soldiers, but had attracted a crowd around her. Baffled by what she was saying, Eragon merely stood as if trying to see how he could have wronged her. Without warning, the women broke out of the soldier's grasp and came at him with a knife. He sidestepped easily, and quickly disarmed and put her to sleep.

Eragon raised his head to look at Arya, the bewilderment clear in his features. When she was unable to provide him with an answer, Eragon turned to the soldiers and said, "Thank you for your help today, do any of you know this women?"

"No Shadeslayer, I have no idea of who this women is."

"Very well, in that case, can you take this women to the cell on the first floor, and then could you tell Lady Nasuada of the incident and request that she meet me in a half hour's time outside the door to that wing of the fortress."

"Yes, of course Shadeslayer."

"Thank you."

Eragon turned to look at the crowd that had since walked away or whispered quietly to one another. He walked closer to where Arya and Saphira stood, his eyes clouded with a certain uncertainty.

"I do not know how I have wronged that woman. But her fury was not a mimicry; that was pure anger. Whatever reason she had was justified by her." He looked away as if he was ashamed at her accusations. He knew he had killed before, but never one of his own men, even by accident he had never done so.

"Eragon, do not fear. I am sure Nasuada will be able to reveal to us what exactly is happening. There is a possibility that the woman spoke in madness. Lunacy, especially at this point in time, when warriors are lost and their families left to fend for themselves can set in. That woman looked recently married, probably very much in love with her husband, and so when sentenced to a life of a widow, blaming whoever can be justified. You have nothing to fear, the people do not blame you. They were speaking of the woman's madness, not the possibility of you ever being guilty of such an offense. And they spoke the truth."

"Are I not responsible for this war though? And the deaths in it? Who can blame her? Had I lost you in a battle, there would be no stopping the insanity creeping into my mind."

"Iet liduen Shurtugal, your greatest fear is losing yourself because you will have lost me. That is nothing to fear. If something should happen to me, then I want you to promise me that you will always remain the Eragon I have fallen in love with. The one whose smile can make the sun look dim, or the stars look dull, or the moon lusterless. The man who can make the ocean calm, the forest prosperous, or a heart fulfilled. Promise Eragon, that if I die, you will not lose yourself, but live in the happiness of our memories together."

Uncaring of the viewers, Eragon crushed her delicate, yet incredibly strong body to his.

"Arya, iet evarínya nuanen, how can I promise to be happy if we were separated? You are asking the shadow to leave the body and find its own path, or the heart to leave its beat without dire circumstances, or stars to fall on earth leaving their place in the heavens above. You are asking the impossible."

"Some stars do fall to earth, you have fallen, my beautiful star, you have fallen from the skies and you have brought a shine to my faint soul which threatened to fade forever. I am not asking the impossible, but among the most difficult. Can you promise me that?"

"Arya, I will promise that I will live in the happiness of us only if you promise me something else."

Arya searched his eyes, trying to guess what he was asking. He leaned down and captured her lips with his.

"Arya, you must promise me that if something should happen to me, and I do not return, then you will not live in the happiness of us, but you will try and forget me, forget us and move on. If you should meet someone else, I want that for you, all I have ever wanted is your happiness and if that should mean to forget me, then I want you to forget me."

Arya's penetrating gaze turned from loving to furious in a speed a bolt of lightning would have envied. She hastily pulled away from his arms and stepped back nearly a few meters.

Cold and unforgiving, her voice sounded, "Shadeslayer, I shall see you later. I trust you do not need me to see the Lady Nightstalker. You can obviously handle it yourself."

Arya turned and walked quickly towards the castle, closing her mind off from his. Eragon looked after her, as if contemplating whether or not to approach her now or wait until her anger subsided. As soon as he decided to run after, the soldiers he had sent before had returned.

"Shadeslayer, the Lady Nasuada has made it clear that she does not have the time to deal with an incident like this. However, she told us to tell you that she will look into the matter tomorrow morning and get back to you on the randomness of the outburst. During that time, she has requested that you need not pay heed to her words as she remembers no incident with which her claims might have been true."

Worried at Arya's outburst, Eragon had only, from the entire speech, got that he was not needed at the moment. So he hastily replied, "Thank you." and trailed after Arya with Saphira close behind.

_I do not understand Saphira. Why did she become angry like that? _

_You had to ask did you not little one. _

_Ask what Saphira? _

_You asked her to forget you, like she forgot Faolin to be with you. _

_Oh dear gods, what have I done? _The horror of what he had asked set in on him. He had no idea as to how stupid he was. All he wanted was her happiness and he had asked her to forget him? He truly was stupid farm boy from Carvahall.

_Oh little one, you are not stupid. Your intentions were true, and she will see that. Go and apologize. It is time you learned an important lesson. _

_And what is that Saphira? _

_That in a relationship, the women is always right. Do, without asking, do what she asks unquestioningly or know when the question back. Oh and always be the one to apologize first, for it is far easier to accept defeat with you love then try and win an argument with it. _

_Thank you Saphira, you have painted quite a nice picture of my life in the next years. _

_Oh do not worry, you were never the man in any relationship. That was always me and not Arya. You pick your women well. _

_Saphira…_Eragon growled warningly.

_It was a jest, now go and pacify your elf. She needs you, whether you see that or not. _

Eragon nodded and sent his mind in a search for hers. When he found nothing in return, as he had expected because Arya was hiding from him, he turned to his senses. He looked for her familiar scent of freshly crushed pine cones and found her trail quickly. He sprinted after her, looking for any signs of distress. He found her, silent tears rolling down her cheeks, her body curved around her knees as she stared in the oblivion. Eragon looked away in disgust. Horrified that he had done that to her, that he had hurt the one person vital to his very soul, he turned away.

Mustering up his courage, the tears forming at his eyes as well, he slowly began to walk towards her. When he was scantly a few feet from her body, she got up and turned to face him. Her face was once again an impenetrable mask, the face he had gotten from her before she had opened up to him. His heart sank fast, and in its place he felt a hole.

Ignoring his obvious distress Arya swiftly replied, "What is it Shadeslayer?"

"Arya, iet Drottningu, I am sorry."

"Apologize? Please, you have done nothing wrong. We do not have a relationship yet where your opinions could do me harm."

Eragon shut his eyes together, the tears leaking from his corners. He had no idea that this much pain was possible. He quickly closed the distance and grasped her face in his trembling hands.

"Arya, please, listen to me. I am truly sorry for what I asked you to do. I was only thinking of your happiness. I love you and I cannot bear to see you like this. I see the stupidity of what I asked and I am sorry. I do not ever wish that you forget me, that you forget us. I only wish that you love me enough that you can be happy for me and if that happiness warrants another man, then I want that for you. I am more sorry than you will ever know for asking something like that from you. I cannot be without you, Arya. Those few minutes you placed away from you hurt more than any torture I had undergone to get these powers. Arya, cutting me off from you is as good as killing me. Please Arya, please accept my apology, I cannot be without you."

Tears were flowing more freely from his reddened blue eyes. He continued to hold her face in his hands and when she made no motion to speak, he nodded and made to remove his hands from framing her face.

Basking in his words, Arya calmed. She knew she had wanted him to be happy, and if that was with another woman then so be it. She knew what he was asking. But she had still lost her temper because she couldn't imagine loving another like she loved Eragon, but that was just as she had imagined that she could never love another man like she loved Faolin. The stark reality of her feelings had sent her spiraling and thinking that she could do that again brought her to believe that she was treacherous. His hands were firm and comforting around her face, and she again calmed in the warmth of his hands. When he made to move them away, thinking that she was rejecting him, she covered her own shaking hands over his. Emotions she locked away, she had let through her. She somehow knew that Eragon would make her feel whole again. Not being with him was as good as mourning him.

The instant Arya's emotions hit his own and he felt her presence in his mind again, Eragon sighed in relief. He leaned down to capture her lips with his own, moving fervently against her mouth. He let his arms slip from her face to her sides, bringing her body closer. He easily lifted and twirled her, smiling against her lips. Setting her down, he moved his hands back up to her face to gaze in her beautiful eyes.

"Arya, I am sor- "

"Hush Eragon, it is not you I am angry at, but rather your uncanny ability to reveal things about myself that I do not want to know. Should something happen to me, I want you to be happy, even if it includes another woman. However, the reality of your request struck me. I had forgotten of Faolin when I had began loving you. I had forgotten that I had forgotten, and now I feel like I have betrayed him somehow. I do not love him, although I believed I did once. Our relationship was on the verge of breaking, however, because of the mission of ferrying Saphira's egg, we had been somewhat rekindled. Perhaps that is why my previous relationship with Faolin had no bearing on my feelings for, rejecting or accepting them. However, I do not want to be that way with you. I do not think that I can be happy with anyone else. Never have I had someone as vital to my well-being as you, and it frankly scares me that it might be possible to fall for another man. For as long as you have existed in this world, I doubt there will ever be another man like you, or even half the man you are."

Arya looked away from his sparkling blue eyes. Truthfully she was embarrassed at having reacted that way, embarrassed for even bringing up that kind of horrid thoughts that serve only to hurt, never to comfort. But lately, with these new thoughts came a new kind of hope, Eragon. He had always known the right thing to say to bring her out of her depressing thoughts.

Her voice a plea, barely audible for Eragon himself she requested, "Please, say_ something, _say anything to solve these problems."

"Iet naunen, we need not solve our feelings in one night. But this is hardly a problem. We are questioning our own ability to love, but the beauty of love is that it need not be contained or bounded by any means. And such is our love for one another. That is truly something to fear. It is frightening to trust someone else with your mind, or heart, or in my case my very soul, but we can and we have. Forget that we have had pasts, or of a war, or of who will approve or who does not. Forget of our duties and know that here, right now, know that we love each other, and that is all the matters. Let the falling sun be a testimony for the depth of our feelings. Nothing has happened to us yet, and we will both make sure nothing bad will happen as best as we can. This is a happy time, put these distressing thoughts away, we need not acknowledge them anymore. Why are we contemplating the future when the present has yet to be fixed?"

Nodding to his words, Arya grasped his hand, tugging slightly to initiate their walk back towards their room. Remaining still, Eragon applied enough force to keep Arya outstretched at an arm's length. Holding her in place, Eragon closed the distance and kissed her. He laid his forehead on hers and whispered, "I love you."

Arya smiled at him, the tension easing from her body. She found that it did not matter to her, at least not anymore, and she had her Rider to thank for that. Her poetic Rider had once again chased away her pain. She clasped her hands behind Eragon's neck and pulled him in, meeting his lips with hers.

They stood, locked in each other's embrace until the sun had fully set and the only source of light was the glowing moon. An animal's roar broke them apart. Eragon gave her a brief smile before raising his magnificent blue eyes to scan the ground around them. They were fairly isolated, in a rather dense area of the forest. Not wanting to take any chances, he whispered, "It has gotten quite dark, I think it best we go back before we get some unexpected visitors. The animals here are much more violent than those in the forests of your home. They grow restless with the spread of evil as they are not as protected. I remember Roran telling me that there was once an animal attack close to this area as well."

Arya nodded, a strange eeriness engulfing her senses. She was immediately on the alert, her awareness heightened with the adrenaline pumping through her body. She took of sprinting and felt Eragon close behind her. Covering miles in a matter of minutes, they arrived with plenty of time before the gate to the Varden's stronghold would have closed for the night. Arya walked in, but Eragon turned one last time to look at the tumultuous forest. He had always taken solace in nature and believed the forests beautiful, but this one was different. This was the first time being in a forest instilled him with fear. Instilled him with_ fear. _There was something abnormal about that forest. The calls he heard were not of some normal animal, but of a monster, an animal that killed not for necessity, but for pure pleasure. There was something terrorizing those woods.

Sensing his distress, Arya turned back and lightly grasped his hand, momentarily bringing him back from his thoughts. He took it without hesitation and together they made their way through the Varden and to their rooms.

_Little ones, is everything settled now? _

Eragon smiled before replying, _Yes, Saphira. I have not messed up too badly that she could not forgive me. _

_Not yet Eragon, there is still time._ Arya jested at Eragon.

Joining in her laughter he replied, "Yes, we have all the time in the world." He kissed her lightly as they entered their room.

_Saphira? _

_Yes, little one. I had sensed your distress earlier. What is on your mind? _

_The forest does not feel right. It does not feel like a forest should feel. It is almost as if it is revolting against some force inside of it. _

_What makes you feel this way? _

_I know not, but this is the only time a forest has struck fear in me. I usually find forests relaxing and this one frightened me to no end. _

_This is one of the denser forests we have seen, perhaps denser then Du Weldonvarden, but much denser then the Spine._

_It is not the thickness, it is the torment. The forest is crying for help, the animals that howled tonight did not do so in hunger or calling, but for help. A plea for someone to come help them. Have you noticed any differences lately?_

_To be frank, I did not hunt in that area. However, I will tomorrow and I shall look into the positions of the animals. Have you any idea of what it could be? _

_A Fanghur perhaps. _

_But Eragon, they are not native to the area. _

_They weren't native to that area where they attacked us either. Something is wrong with that forest. _

_I shall look into it while you speak with Nasuada about that woman tomorrow. _

_Ah, I had almost forgotten about that._

_It is good you put it out of your mind for some time to say the least. Now get some rest, we need to be ready bright and early tomorrow morning. _

He felt Saphira fall into her sleep before closing his connection with her. By that time he and Arya already lay in bed staring out the window. Eragon ran his hand over Arya's arm, occupying his body so his mind could get some rest. He felt his elf push back and curve her back against his body. He wrapped his arm around her before closing his eyes and letting the drowsiness take over.

Chapter twenty five: Connections from times across

The sun was barely rising when Eragon woke the next morning. Not wanting to wake Arya, he silently lifted himself from the bed, took a bath, and dressed himself. He looked to see Arya still asleep, but in a changed position. Her hand was draped across the bed where he was supposed to be. He smiled warmly at her sleeping body and made his way over. He lowered himself gently across the bed and lifted her arm so he could fit underneath. He sensed a change in her breathing pattern and knew that she had awoken.

He felt more than saw a smile flit across her mouth. He leaned across the bed turning her over and letting his head rest on her stomach. His arms, two steel bands, came around her waist, clutching her slim figure to him.

Arya gazed down at a resting Eragon. He had changed. As he continued his training and spent more time in this war, Arya had noticed his eyes darken each day. From the time she had first sparred with him to the battle of Feinster, Arya saw his eyes lose more and more of their usual sparkle. But he had changed since then. His eyes were that same vibrant color she had expected them to be before the war had started for him. She was happy for him, happy that he was finding happiness. She brought her hand to rest on base of his neck while her other combed through his hair. She felt him groan and sigh in pleasure, sending shivers through her entire body. He turned his head to look at her, his chin resting on her abdomen. He gave her one of his smiles, and scooted up her body so his own, significantly heavier body was lying on top of hers. Resting his head down in the nook of her shoulder, Eragon kissed her neck and continued to lie in peace.

Words were not needed, she deemed, his actions were just as poetic as his words were. Eragon was like no other man she had ever encountered. His voice was deep and resounding, strong, vibrant. It was one of the criticisms Eragon had received when he recited his poem for the Blood-Oath celebration. Most other elves his deep voice took away from the beauty of his words, they felt a lighter voice, a more sing-songy voice would have been apt for poetry. Arya, on the other hand, felt the voice of a male elf was almost annoying. She no longer cared for the riddlelike elven men who lightened their voices in an effort to woo a woman. She found his poem refreshing, a twist of reality, making something so tumultuous of an experience into something so beautiful. She believed his voice enhanced that effect, a strong, deep, resounding voice, capable of a love and cruelty elven men could not hope to achieve. But Eragon's voice was not like other human males either. She found the deeper voices of the human men arrogant, brazen, and rather loud as well. She believed the humans had lost their poetic tongue capacity when she became an ambassador. She believed that only the Ancient Language was capable of being beautiful, but then she heard Eragon speak. Even before his transformation, he spoke quietly, hearable, but not overly loud. He spoke well too, he used words most humans would not have used, reminding her of renowned author, who spoke with the least words possible, yet conveying the same idea in a refined manner. In fact, Arya could recall several incidents when Eragon had politely avoided any prying or offensive questions. He basically, with very eloquent words, told a few to be quiet, other to leave him be, or even others to leave the premises if they wanted to survive their upcoming days. She laughed faintly. In fact the only times when he could not find an eloquent to escape questioning was when she questioned him.

Happy with her observations, Arya turned her head to look at her love and smiled down. She knew that Eragon had known what she was thinking, and she did not want it any other way. When Eragon made no move to get up, Arya nudged him trying to let him know that she was ready to wake for the new day. But when she looked down again, she saw that her Rider had fallen fast asleep again.

_Arya?_

Arya heard the questioning voice and found it to be Saphira's.

_Saphira, how are you doing today? _

_I am quite fine little one, but I was under the impression that Eragon had gotten up and bathed already and now I find him fast asleep. Was I imagining it or did he really get up? _

_No, Saphira, you were not imagining anything. Eragon had indeed bathed, it was his fresh scent that woke me. He laid down by me as I was still asleep, but soon enough he had fallen asleep as well. _

_He has gotten lazier these past couple of weeks. That is rather amusing though. In any case, please get yourself ready. The two of you must meet Nasuada to discuss the problems with that woman. Leave Eragon to get his rest as much as possible, I have a feeling he will need it today. And when he wakes could you please inform him of my departure to the forest he was preoccupied with yesterday. _

_Yes, I will. Saphira? _

_Yes, little one, what is on your mind? _

_Have you any idea of what this could be? I will be honest, I have not the experience of forests as Eragon does. I have never meditated in a forest as Oromis has taught Eragon. I do not feel safe in some and fearful in others. But I trust Eragon's judgment. Yesterday, the sun had just fallen when we heard the noise. It was like an animal's call, but there was no confidence in its voice. It was afraid, and calling out at something. But I know not. _

_Eragon had marked the call as one of a Fanghur. They travel in small packs, but this one seemed to be alone. Despite the fact that those animals are like wolves, they are pack animals, they are also not native here. I will do my best to see what is wrong. I am far more intertwined with nature then Eragon is, so perhaps I will have more luck with discovering what the nature of this problem is. _

_Saphira, do you truly believe that this is a problem worth taking up? _

_I cannot say Arya, however I do know that as the battle nears, we cannot afford to let surprises come our way from the forest. In any case, we cannot afford our men to feel fear of whatever lurks in those woods. _

_Be careful Saphira. _

_Do not let this adventure of mine be cause for concern. I am the most majestic of creatures, far more powerful and intelligent than any other life form. I rule the skies and burn the earth. No beast will dare not quail before me. Let Eragon know that I have left and make sure you two see Nasuada soon. _

_Thank you Saphira. _

Arya closed the connection with the great dragon and moved to get herself out of bed. How she managed to get herself out from underneath Eragon's body and steel like grip she will never know, but she nevertheless succeeded and got ready to see Nasuada.

By the time Arya had finished dressing, Eragon was already awake with Brisingr attached to his belt and Arya's sword in his hand. When she walked out, he meet her at the door, forcefully met her lips with his while daftly attaching her sword to her waist. He curved his hands up and down her back. Arya smiled against his lips, "Saphira wanted me to pass along to you, as you had fallen asleep again, that she was leaving to look at the forest you were worried about, and that we need to see Nasuada."

"Of course, there is always something to do."

"Of course there is always something to do. We are in a middle of a war, are we not?"

"Sometimes Arya, I wish the war would just end and we could go somewhere, far away, to a place only we know about, and stay there."

"Then we have another reason to fight, do we not?"

He smiled and laced his hand with hers. They made their way down to the wing where the woman was being held. Nasuada was already there, along with several members of the Du Vrangr Gata. To his surprise, General Halton was there as well. Eragon nodded his acknowledgment and turned to face Nasuada. He was about to speak when Nasuada raised her hand to stop him, "Wait Shadeslayer, listen to our side of the story and then ask questions."

Eragon nodded his approval and stayed silent.

"First, you should know that the woman who accused you of killed her husband is General Halton's daughter. She ran away seven months ago saying that she had fallen in love with a wayward traveler who happened to pass through these parts. She has not been seen since that day. Here is where the details are rather discerning. Apparently, the wayward traveler had made his home deep within the woods. Normally no one ventures in that territory, so we made no move to think of it. However, recently your cousin has made it clear that one night, a man went looking in those forests for a lost arrow. He did not believe it would have gone too far, but he did not return that night. Concerned for his man's well being, Roran organized a search team when the sun had risen and there he discovered a man's body mangled beyond recognition. Roran identified the body by a unique ring that the man was known to have worn. The men deemed in an animal attack and gave the man a fitting funeral. Here is where the connection lies. The woman in that room claims that a man had killed her husband and when she described the attack wounds, we recognized it as being similar to the ones seem on Roran's man. Seeing as the woman could have been a witness to what is killing the animals and men who venture there so brutally, I called upon some elves and members of the Du Vrangr Gata to look into her mind. The rest Blodgarm will explain to you."

Eragon turned to look at the wolf like elf. He gave the respectful elven greeting and looked at him expectantly.

"Shadeslayer, when we looked into her mind, we saw it was very fragmented. This kind of fragmentation has only been seen when someone of a very high magical caliber, such as yourself, tampers with a mind of much lesser power. We were able to pull memories in, but the result is rather disconcerting. We have discovered a kind of stone shimmering in the memory as if made of water. And a man standing before it. He was overpowered by whatever was in that stone. We do not know what it is, it seemed to be a spirit of some sort."

"I see, has anyone questioned the woman yet?"

"Shadeslayer," General Halton spoke for the first time, "I am sorry for my daughter's outburst, but I would appreciate it if she was looked on as a distraught victim. She is no killer and I see no reason for her interrogation."

"General, I am in no means insinuating that it was your daughter that killed her husband and Roran's man, however, she should be questioned as to what she saw. Her husband does not sound like a normal man living deep within the densest forests and standing in front of a stone that simmers like water does. Perhaps your daughter has information regarding this."

The general nodded and stepped aside from the door. Eragon, Arya, Nasuada, and Blodgarm entered first, followed by her father. As soon as they walked in, the woman hissed her displeasure at seeing Eragon there. She soon fell into tears and looked away sobbing.

_Arya? _

_What is it Eragon? _

_Can you handle this, I highly doubt she really wants to be comforted by me. _

_You would comfort a woman who tried to kill you? _

_She believes I killed her husband, she is in distress. _

_Fine, I will do my best. _

Arya walked towards the bed and laid a light hand on the sobbing woman's shoulder. When she found no objection she sat down next to her and gently rubbed her shoulder. The woman seemed to calm down. She finally lifted her head up and looked into Arya's beautiful emerald eyes. Arya smiled at her and asked, "What is your name?"

"Elena, my name is Elena."

"That is a beautiful name."

"Thank you."

"Elena, can you tell us what happened, in your own words."

"My husband was not the wayward traveler I said he was. He was a guard of the forest, a guard of the secrets of this forest. Because of the influxes of magic in the system so far, he has trouble controlling the wards, but in this last case of influx he was overpowered and a wild spirit released and latched itself onto an animal sending it to insanity with an unquenchable thirst for blood. It killed him."

"Elena what do you mean by influxes of magic, and if you knew that the animal killed him, why did you attack the Shadeslayer?"

Elena's eyes angered at the mention of Eragon's name, but she held her calm and replied, "An influx of magic is when the total magic of the system is altered. To find a balance, magic must always ferry itself around the earth. As such, there are some places with much more magic then others. The Hadarac desert for one, is deserted of magic while the forest of the elves is teeming with it. The Spine, and the Beor Mountains also have much magic in it. As far as my anger goes, it is because of the magic the Shadeslayer destroyed that my husband died."

"How so?" 

"The origins of magic come from two sources, the Grey Folk, and the dragons. For the longest time, dragons were abundant and my husband, the guarder of the world of spirits, was able to draw power from the dragon's presence in this world to keep the gate sealed away. However, because the Shadeslayer killed the Red dragon, the magic of one of three dragons to inhabit this land disappeared and the ward fell through leaving the gate open. Only one spirit escaped, but that one spirit killed my husband. Had the Shadeslayer not killed that dragon, my husband would still be alive."

"And the gate, is it closed now?"

"Yes."

"How so?"

"My husband taught me how."

"I am truly sorry for your loss, Elena, our condolences are with you. What was your husband's name?"

"Kuthian-" Eragon's dull eyes shot open when he heard that name. "My husband's name is Kuthian."

Unable to contain his questioning any longer he asked, "And the stone he was in front of, was that the Vault of Souls?" 

"Yes Shadeslayer it was. I am assuming you realize the magnitude of what you have done."

Eragon looked away again, he mustered up his strength to answer her. "Lady Elena, you have reason to hate me, but not more reason than I do to hate myself. That man and dragon I killed, you only know as the Red Rider and the Red Dragon. But to me they were Murtagh and Thorn, my brother and a magnificent, strong Dragon. Both were friends and kin of mine. I did not want to kill him, but I had no choice. Had I let them live, your husband would have had nothing left to protect. I am sorry for your loss, I have had my own as well. Your husband has passed on because of this war, but you still have a family that loves you. I, on the other hand, have had all except two members of my family killed in this battle while I am left to love the ones I have left. However, I am still very sorry for your loss. If it could have been another way, I would have taken it, but there was not. Not this time anyway."

"I understand your predicament, but you are still responsible for my husband's death."

Eragon nodded, "I understand your anger, but I cannot do anything about it."

"Believe me Shadeslayer, I am well aware of what you can and cannot do."

"As much as this pains you Lady Elena, I must tell you that I need a favor from you. Your husband's death was a cause of this war. To help end this war, I need a favor from you."

Elena looked towards the ground, in obvious distress at the thought of helping the man responsible for her husband's death. Arya sensed her battle and decided to intervene.

"Your husband was responsible for keeping the spirits of evil from taking over the land. He was protecting Alagaesia, and he gave his life for it. Now you have a choice, to help your husband finish his task or let his death go in vain."

Arya had struck a chord with her, and the elf knew it as soon as Elena replied, "I will help you Shadeslayer, but do not expect me to be nice about it."

"Of course Lady Elena."

Eragon left the room leaving Arya to help Elena into a room for the night. They had decided to leave later that day, but first Eragon wanted to speak with Saphira about what she had found. No doubt it was due to this beast, but now he had to figure out how to kill it.

The Rider found Saphira outside the edge of the forest. She was staring into it as if sympathizing with its predicament.

_Saphira? I trust you know of what has happened with the woman. _

_Lady Elena? Yes, I know. I was in your mind when I felt your distress when she began crying. _

_That's right, that's when I started gaining a bit more confidence in my speech. _

_Before I begin my tale, how are you doing? Have her words hurt you?_

_I killed her husband. Knowingly or unknowingly, I am guilty as charged. I killed a man named Kuthian because of my hastiness to end this war. _

_Hastiness? Trying to end a war as fast as possible is not hastiness, it is wise. Look at how many years of suffering we can prevent. _

_Sometimes the fastest way is not the best way. I was too hasty in fighting against the Urgals with Brom, and then with the Razac. My pursuit of Arya was also too hasty, as was my impatience with Oromis-elda when I asked him to teach me of things I had not the capacity for. Hastiness can lead to more destruction. _

_Yes, it can, everything is relative. We are not here to debate philosophy. No one philosophy or ideology can apply to every situation in life. Your hastiness also gave you Brisingr, saved Arya twice, and killed a Shade. There is good and bad to everything, everything is balanced. But know that had you not killed Murtagh that day, we would still be fighting alongside an army that lost its will to fight, we would be fighting against two powerful dragons instead of one. I have gotten over killing one of my race, you must as well. War has its casualties, do not forget what we are fighting for. _

_You are right again Saphira. _

_I believed we have been over this little one, I am always right. _

_What did your investigations reveal?_

_The animal is most definitely a Fanghur. It is not native to the area, therefore it was drawn by some other force. The Fanghur itself is acting out of character. It kills, then leaves it kill for something else to find. It rarely eats its prey. It is trying to send a message to all the other animals or is possessed by some disease, which I now know to be a malevolent spirit. This one is a full grown male, so far more aggressive by nature then the others of its kind. _

_That is not good news. _

_The Fanghur is the least of our problems, this Rock of Kuthian and the Vault of Souls is no doubt part of Solembum's prophecy, but I do not know how this can help us. _

_Neither do I Saphira, but I plan to find out anyway. _

_In any case, we need to kill this thing first. _

_How can we ensure that the spirit does not jump bodies? _

_I say we trap it and then kill it. _

_Very well, join me Rider and we will extinguish the threat in this forest. _

Eragon leapt on Saphira and quickly melded his mind with hers. They located the Fanghur and descended over it. Eragon send the words preventing the body from moving. Examining it closely, Eragon saw its eyes masked with a feral rage, something uncharacteristic of the usually gaze of the Fanghur. He searched the mind for the spirit while keeping his own guarded. He kept the spirit inside the body of the Fanghur, trapping it. He sliced the head of the monster with Brisingr and waited to release the spirit until he felt its strength fade.

He disposed of the body quickly.

_Can you feel the forest now? _

_Yes Saphira, it is more peaceful, grateful almost. But it is tentative. They are expecting another terrorizing force to come out. _

_I sensed the apprehension as well. We should head back and decide on the best course of action with Lady Elena. I, for one, will not let you face the Rock of Kuthian without me. Who knows of what evils you can encounter there. _

_I know, I daresay I am quite fearful as well. _

_We shall ask the Lady Elena on our way here. But for now, let us go back. We should check on the progress of the weapons as well. _

_There seems to be a thousand things to do at once. And only two that I want to do. _

_And which two are those little one? _

_Fly with you and be with Arya. _

_Soon enough Eragon, soon enough you shall be able to do just that. _

Eragon mounted Saphira once more and within minutes they were in the courtyard awaited by Arya, Nasuada, and the rest of the council.

He smiled at Arya, sending her waves of love. He felt her calming presence in his mind stir as she acknowledged him mentally. He turned to Nasuada bowing, but he spoke to General Halton first.

"General, how is your daughter doing now?"

"Thank you for asking Shadeslayer. She is doing better now, but still just as distraught and who's to blame her? I do apologize for her rash actions however."

"There is nothing to apologize for."

"I do not think she will be normal again. She is sentenced to a life without the one she loves."

"My deepest condolences, General."

The General nodded and returned his gaze back to staring at nothing.

Eragon nodded his greeting to the other generals in the war council and waited for Nasuada to commence.

"All the preparations have commenced in full production. We have the first weapons, except for the water fields, already set up. They have worked so far, and we have no doubt they will continue to work. Now I would like to speak with Eragon and Arya Shadeslayer alone. If you all would excuse us."

Slowly, all the generals filed out, the elves taking their own course, the dwarves their own, and the humans another. Eragon watched them leave before turning to Nasuada.

"What happened in the forest Eragon? Arya has informed me that you entered it."

"Saphira investigated the story while she was telling it. Everything adds up, no discrepancies. The animal was a Fanghur, not a problem to fight off, however, it is a well known fact that those creatures are not native here. Something has drawn it in to these forests. That force I do not know of. Saphira and I have killed the Fanghur and disposed of the body ensuring the spirit has truly left the world as well."

"And what do you plan to do when you get to this place?"

"I must be honest. I do not know why I must go there, but I do know that I must. There is something in the Rock of Kuthian and the Vault of Souls that deals with me. I believe that it can change the course of this war."

"You do not think the course has already changed."

"We do not know how powerful Galbatorix is. We can only guess. The tide has changed with information, but there can be other surprises. I suggest I go and cover all the bases."

"Very well Eragon, I would like you to leave as soon as possible. Take Elena for you do not know the way, and take Arya as well. I assume Saphira is coming with you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Between the two of them, you will be safe."

"I have dealt with spirited beings before, Shades are nothing but spirits."

"Eragon, I fear for you from a different kind of spirited beings. The spirited heart that lies in Elena. She has buried her hatred and anger, not killed it. Be wary of her."

"Yes Nasuada."

"Now go prepare yourself."

_Little one?_

_Yes. _

_Glaedr-elda wished to speak with you. _

_Ah, tell him I am on my way right now. _

"Arya?"

She was by his side instantly, "What is it Eragon?"

"Glaedr-elda wishes to speak with me. Will you come?"

"Of course, he is with Saphira right?"

"Yes, we need to go to the dragonhold though, I would rather have this conversation in a more private setting."

"Has Saphira left for there already?"

"Yes"

"Then let us make haste." Arya picked up brisk pace towards the dragonhold with Eragon close behind her. "Saphira is right you know."

"Arya, Saphira is always right about everything, what are you specifically speaking of?"

"When she said that no one philosophy can be correctly applied to every situation, she was correct. Do not discount yourself, you have not done anything wrong Eragon. Rash? Yes. But not wrong. You have taken wise decisions."

"Thank you Arya."

"Come, iet Shurtugal, maybe we can find some answers to this next mystery."

The pair entered the dragonhold to be greeted by Saphira and a glowing golden gem.

_Glaedr-elda, I am here. _

_Eragon-finarel, it is good to hear your voice again. I have to say that I am proud of you. Saphira has informed me of your accomplishments so far. Killing another Shade is no easy task and you have done so beautifully. Spellweaving is no small task either, yet your last one has made me very proud of you. _

_Thank you Glaedr-elda. _

_But now is not the time to reminisce on the past. You have killed the Red Rider, but not the one responsible and that is fine. We have more pressing matters to concern ourselves with, first and foremost being the Rock of Kuthian and the Vault of Souls. _

_I was under the impression that Oromis-elda did not know of the Rock of Kuthian. _

_He did not know, but I did and I was sworn to secrecy, it was only secret between us. _

_Can you tell me anything of it? _

_Yes, and listen well Eragon-finarel. The knowledge I impart to you is of heavy matter. There is a life after death. The Vault of Souls is the place where these souls go to pass judgment. Every being goes to the Vault of Souls after it dies. Those who are deemed worthy, their spirit goes to a place called mor'ranr (peace). Your father and Oromis now reside there. They can meet with the ones they live with no thoughts of duty or hatred. The Riders and elves that reside there are those that have died in battle. The humans are there for rest of eternity. From there, they can move about freely, yet they can do nothing to help those still alive. That was until the Vault of Souls was created. The man Kuthian, the one who guarded the Vault of Souls, was chosen after a thorough search for the right man. He was given enough power through a spell by the Grey Folk to be able to carry out his task, but no more. He was given long life by the elves to ensure only he would be able to do it. However, his time has passed, and the Vault has no guard. This proves our quest to be far easier. You can call on whomever you want, but make sure it has some value. You are in no need of power or advice. You have plenty of both. What you need to win the war is knowledge. I do not know who you can call upon, but you must do so before the Vault chooses another guardian. Now go quickly. _

_Thank you Glaedr-elda. _

_So you still have the ability to thank me even though your last quest I sent you on put you through more pain than ever before. You are a rare man Eragon. Now go, quickly. _

"Arya, we need to find Lady Elena and leave as soon as possible. We should take horses. I do not trust her to be in that close contact with us if we fly. Saphira, can you fly overhead?"

_Yes, Eragon I agree with this plan. _

Arya nodded her approval and together they made their way down to Lady Elena's accommodations. Eragon glanced one last time at Arya, letting his unsure mind rise up one last time before squalling it and knocking. He heard a voice from the inside and he stepped back letting Arya's face be the first one she saw. Elena opened the door, coldly recognizing who she was looking at.

"Oh, are you ready Shadeslayer?"

Arya replied for him, something he was grateful for, "We are ready Lady Elena, we will take the horses and Saphira will follow overhead."

Eragon saw Elena nod and step out of her room. Eragon bowed his head and silently made his way to the stables with Arya flanking him and Elena a little ways behind. They borrowed two horses. One for Arya and Elena, the other for Eragon. With a small command from the spellcasters, the horses were on their way with Elena in the lead with the reins. Eragon felt Saphira slice through the air as she easily kept pace with them. When they had arrived, Eragon dismounted and stopped the horse as well giving Saphira ample space to land. Once she had, Eragon let go of the other horse and the two ladies dismounted as well.

"Shadeslayer, here is the rock my husband died protecting. I have no want or reason to be here anymore and you have need of this place more than I. I have done your favor and I will leave you now. Are you in need of the other horse?"

"No, thank you Lady Elena."

"The best way you can thank me is to never appear before me again. I will go my separate way and you will go yours. I shall take the horses back and this marks that last we will see of each other."

"Very well."

Elena took the reins of the horses, mounting one and leading the other. She broke into a gallop and left the forest as quickly as she had come.

Eragon looked towards Arya, the turmoil showing through again. As he had done for her many times, she leaned in and kissed away the forming tears in his eyes. It would best if they did not meet ever again.

The Rider backed away from Arya and turned to look at the stone before him. "I suppose I should say my name."

"Which one?"

"Eragon Shadeslayer, I should think."

"Eragon, if Shadeslayer is your name, then so is Argetlam, Shurtugal, Firesword, Bromsson, and Son of None. These are all names that you have acquired, not one of them defines who you truly are."

"It is asking for my true name. But I do not know it and Oromis did not tell me how to find it."

"Eragon, I am and elf and I am trained in finding true names. Although know if you ask this of me, I will know what it is."

"You would have known anyway. I keep nothing from you."

Arya smiled at him, "Be careful not to hide anything, I doubt I can find it if you hide things from me."

Eragon nodded. He felt Arya's presence grow stronger in his mind. Once she had fully immersed herself in his mind, she began to flit through memories. She spent a good deal of time on some, others she cast away in her search. She did her best to pour love and warmth into her mind to make sure Eragon was comfortable. A little over forty minutes passed and Arya finally settles back into his mind. She sagged to the ground. Eragon caught her limp body and lifted her so she was resting against Saphira.

_Little one are you alright?_

Arya looked at them incredulously, "I have just finished my search for your true name and you both are worried for me rather than preoccupied with learning your true name."

"Arya, there is no one as important to me as you and Saphira. You both will always be first. My name can wait, your strength and life cannot."

Eragon poured energy into her weakened state.

Arya looked into his deep blue eyes and asked, "Are you ready to hear it Rider?"

Eragon nodded his approval and gazed in her emerald eyes, "It is Edoc'sil Hjarta abr Draumar Istalri (unconquerable heart of flaming dreams). That is true essence. You are ruled by no one, you answer to no one but the highest call of justice. You bring the deadened, cold dreams of others to a burning flame. You make others desires burn again."

"Thank you Arya. Although I must say that you control my heart."

"No, Eragon I do not. If I did, you would have stopped loving me when I asked it of you. But you remained the same, just as loving as before. I did not conquer you, I could never dream to conquer your heart. You are a law onto yourself."

Arya stared into his deep blue eyes, happy she was able to give him this, however miniscule it seemed compared to all he had done for her.

"And there, iet evarínya nuanen, you would be wrong. You do more for me than you could ever know."

Arya was about to reply when Saphira interrupted, _Eragon, you have your true name. But before you go and call upon a spirit you need to think of who you will call on. Does anyone come to you?_

_I cannot say I have thought of anyone. _

_Very well little one. Glaedr-elda had said that you need not require anymore training or advice, subsequently ruling out your father or Oromis-elda. Who else does that leave?_

_Uncle Garrow I suppose. _

_I doubt he will be of any help though._

_Yes, you are right. Murtagh perhaps?_

_How can he provide you with knowledge? He was confined and tortured everyday as the king's prisoner. He cannot tell us anymore than we already know. _

_Then who else is there? _

_What do we now know?_

_Saphira, we know of the upcoming battle plans with the Westlands and the king's plan to move the Varden out. _

_Eragon, there is a hypothetical situation we are missing here. How did Murtagh know of this attack? _

_Galbatorix told him. _

_Exactly. The Westlands could have been a story fed to Murtagh to feed to us. _

_No, I had considered that possibility. If it was a fed story, then he expected Murtagh to die, but Murtagh was carrying a great number of eldunari whose power he called upon to keep Galbatorix out of his head. That battle was supposed to ensure our death, not his and Thorn's. _

_Then perhaps the soldiers of the Westlands were not the king's final resort. I do not doubt there are other lands with the same motivation setting sail for Alagaesia. It is a possibility. _

_Eragon, Saphira, both of you have valid points, but we have no idea. All we can do now is speculate. We need someone who is more knowledgeable on this matter. We need an insider. _

_I know of one._ Eragon replied solemnly. _I guess it is time that I acknowledge my other side as well. _

_What do you speak of little one?_

_All this time it was only Brom is my father, Brom is my father, so much so that I forget that I also had a mother. And who better than the Black Hand for a mother? _

_That was the past, my love, there is nothing you can do about that. It is hardly cause for concern. _

_Yes and no. My mother was manipulated and used as an assassin yes, but she also had the most intimate knowledge of the Galbatorix's castle. If we are to gain more information on his plans, then we need more information about the layout of his castle. My mother knew of it better than anyone for she often traveled through the shadows to meet her victims. _

_Then waste no time little one, call your mother. I daresay I do want to see what she looks like. _

Eragon sighed and stood up, _I am not ready for this. I am not ready to see my mother._

"Ssh, Eragon, I am here with you. Iet liduen Shurtugal, I know you are tense at seeing your mother, but do not fear."

Eragon nodded, looking once more at his great dragon and his beautiful love. He turned to face the stone, standing directly in front of the massive rock. He felt the stone stir and give off a most interesting look. It was as if made of water, a pool sideways with the vibrations of the world beyond behind it. The door was sealed, but there was an opening. Eragon could hear what went on beyond, but not cross the barrier. Only sound could cross.

Building his confidence, Eragon looked straight to the entrance and decisively gave his true name, "Edoc'sil Hjarta abr Draumar Istalri!" The shimmering entrance seemed to stop still. Time came to a slow, almost standstill. The air around Eragon shuddered, vibrating his body. He heard a deep, menacing voice, "Choose your soul. Choose who you would call upon."

"Selena, mother of Rider Murtagh and Rider Eragon, the last free Rider of Alagaesia."

Chapter Twenty-Six: Unanswered and Unanswerable, is there a difference?

The deep voice resounding once again, "You shall see Selena of Carvahall."

The air continued to shudder around Eragon, rendering almost unable to see. The earth shook, but the young Rider continued to hold his ground. Dust particles rose, blinding Eragon, forcing him to close his eyes. When the wind finally stopped, Eragon had his hands pressed against his face, protecting himself from the dust. He refused to open them, at least, until he heard a voice.

"Eragon…" Tears leaked out of Eragon's eyes. The voice was beautiful, melodic, everything he had imagined his mother's to be and more. It was strangely familiar to his heart, yet foreign to his ears. "Eragon, my son, please look at me."

Eragon slowly opened his eyes, allowing himself to adjust to the new images. The dust particles lay suspended in the air, the wind slowed to a small gust, the ground remained still leaving Eragon with a crystal clear view. But he did not noticed any of this. What captured his attention was the woman in front of him. She had long, flowing light brown hair. Her eyes were a piercing dark brown, practically black eyes. But they were not cold, no her eyes could not be considered cold, but comforting. She had sharp, distinct features – firm skin, a beautiful light tan color, no doubt from her time in the sun. She was a muscular woman. Her muscles exuded a type of ruthlessness, not the delicateness Arya seemed to portray. It was if her body was a testimony for the hell she went through, and she was proud of it.

"Eragon, how have you been?"

Tears fell down his cheek again, but he continued to gaze at his mother.

"I have been…well mother."

"My son, I have much to answer for. But hear me out first. I would like to apologize for leaving you after you were born. I wanted to spend more time with you, you were the only son I had seen grow up in front of me, if at least for a few weeks. I left because I knew I had another son, another little boy who needed me much more than you did."

"How can you say that? I needed my mother."

"I am sorry Eragon, yes you needed me, but Murtagh did as well. I left him at the mercy of a man so ruthless that even the other Forsworn feared him. I could not leave him there. My presence with you would have also endangered you greatly, so I left as soon as I could."

"I understand what you did to correct your mistakes, but why did you even do anything to make mistakes? I do not understand, and I doubt I ever will understand how you could fall in love with a man like that! Can you answer that?! Mother, can you answer that?"

"I fell in love with Morzan because I believed in him. I believed in his sorrowful poses and his manipulating feelings. I felt sorry, I felt proud, but most of all, I felt needed, and I felt loved. I accompanied him, and on the way I thought I began to know him. He talked of honorable men, of a time when we would see a more wonderful time, but he also talked of the bad and how we needed to exterminate the bad. Little did I know that the men I was killing were those on the right side. I did not question yet, but rather work even harder to prove my loyalty. But soon, I started hating what I was becoming and I expressed my desire to simply care for him, love him as his wife while he played savior to the world. He became angry and broke into my mind. He found my true name and bound me to him forever. I cannot say that I felt bad for I did not feel anything. He prevented me from feeling anything – such is the power of a true name. After many nights of incessant rape, I finally conceived his child – Murtagh. And I loved my son. Using Murtagh against me, he sent me on more missions and I came back everyday to see my son, to tell him everything was alright. And then, then I met your father Eragon. I met Brom. Guised as a gardener, he sowed the seeds of love and acceptance versus hatred and necessity. We fell in love with each other and decided one night to consummate that love. Calling upon his elven blood, he bound us as mates and that night I began pregnant with you. Knowing full well the consequences of what I had done, I left Morzan and traveled with Brom for four months until I was too heavy to carry you anymore. I came upon Carvahall with Brom moving in close by. I gave birth to you, stayed with you for a few weeks. But I had received news that Morzan had gravely injuring Murtagh. I heard that my eldest son's back had been laid open with the horrid man's sword. I left you in my brother's care, took Brom's leave and did not stop until I came back to Morzan's hands. Begging to see my son, I fell at his feet. He asked if I wanted to save my son. I said that I would anything. So, using black magic, he transferred the injury to my back, never to be healed again. Across Murtagh's back was only a scar and the pain associated with it after it had been healed. And across mine was the same wound, but unable to heal no matter the means. I fell sick with infection and blood loss. I died a few days later, missing my one true love, Brom only by hours. I cannot tell you why I fell for a man such as Morzan in the first place. That question will always remain unanswered."

"Do you know mother, do you know why?"

"Yes, I do know why, but I cannot answer your question. It is for the better. There is no difference between what cannot and what should not be answered. In some cases, the reason does not matter, only the effect."

"I am sorry mother, I was too quick to judge."

"There is nothing to forgive. Eragon, I want you to know that I am proud of you, of all that you have become. I do not hate you for killing your brother, he is happy here, I thought you should know that. Eragon, I love you very much, I always have. I know I was not the mother I should have been, but you are still more than the son ever could have been."

"I do love you mother."

"We can go on talking for many years Eragon, but I do not think we have the time. What is the real reason to why you have called me here?"

"I need answers, I need to be able to navigate around Galbatorix's castle and you were the best at it. I need to know where everything is hidden. My brother told me of an attack from the Westlands, but there very well could be others as well. I need to see the battle plans so the Varden can survive these upcoming months."

"I remember the routes well. Come closer, I shall give you my memories of running through those castle walls to get to my destinations. They will help you navigate."

"Thank you mother." Eragon stepped closer and his mother cupped his cheek in her hand. Instantly Eragon felt a flood of memories he recognized as his mother's. Most of them were undecipherable, but they soon rearranged themselves in a logical procession marking entrances and exits including rooms and secret passageways. It was as if Eragon grew up in the castle.

"I cannot say how much of a help you have been mother."

"And no matter how much I do, it will not be enough. I love you Eragon. It is time that I go. Congratulations to you and Arya Drottningu, she is a beautiful woman and a wonderful mate for you. Give my best to Saphira, tell her that she is by far the most beautiful dragon to rule these skies. And Eragon, take care of yourself, know that I have never stopped loving you, my son. Goodbye, and good luck."

The apparition of his mother fainted into the abyss. The center of the portal closed and the ground and air returned to normal.

When Arya laid her eyes upon Eragon again, after the earthquake had ended, she saw a man on the ground with his hand reaching for something in the stone. Tears were streaming down his face. He looked, in one word, vulnerable. He never looked vulnerable before. Weak yes, but his eyes held a defiance of weakness. When he cried, there was always sorrow or anger, never vulnerability. Without wasting any time, Arya ran over to Eragon's weeping figure. She held his head to her chest, protecting his face with her hands, and guiding his outstretched hand to the arm encasing his head.

"It will all be alright Eragon. What happened? Did she come?"

Eragon's tears soon stopped, the reality of never seeing his mother finally hit him. He was glad though, glad he had a chance to speak with at least once. To let her know that he was willing to accept her past and make it part of his life. He looked one last time at the stone and turned his head more fully onto Arya's chest, just below her neck. She rocked him gently. He felt Saphira's loving presence in his mind and her snout nuzzle the back of his neck. He stood up, gently pulling Arya to her feet. He threw his arms around his dragon and held her tightly.

_Oh little one, are you alright? _

_Yes, surprisingly, I am quite fine. I have always wanted to know what my mother was like, not what everyone else thought of her, and now I have my own opinions. I could not have been a prouder son. Both my parents are exceptional people, and I know exactly how blessed I am to know who they are and what they stood for. _

_You have grown little one. I am proud of you, and prouder that I choose you as my Rider. _

Eragon scratched the back of her ear affectionately. He felt Arya's hand rest on his back. He leaned back against it, and turned around. The love in his eyes showing, he raised a hand to cup her cheek. He leaned to kiss her other cheek and then her forehead and nose. Arya smiled at him, her hand rising to encircle his waist as they made their way to mount Saphira.

With a beat of her wings, Saphira was off.

_My mother told me to tell you that you are truly the most beautiful dragon to ever rule the skies. And to Arya, that you are a beautiful woman and a wonderful mate to me. _

_Little one, your mother is quite beautiful herself. _

_She has a beautiful heart, that is all that matters to me. _

_Eragon, iet Shurtugal, forgive me for being blunt, but what exactly happened? I could not see you and neither could Saphira, the dust had thickened making you invisible. _

_It will be much easier to show you. _Eragon sent his memories across the link, seeing no reason to hide anything, including his mother's memories to him.

_Eragon, my love, your mother was an honorable woman. You must be proud._

_Proud, yes, I believe I am. But more than proud, I am happy that I know where I came from. And even better is that I know where I am and who I am. _

_And who is that little one?_

_Eragon, Rider of Saphira, mate to Arya Drottningu, son to Brom and Selena of Kuasta, and Edoc'sil Hjarta abr Draumar Istalri. The Unconquerable Heart of Flaming Dreams. That is what I am. _

_A fitting name, little one. _

_A very fitting name, my love. _

It was a little past four when the three returned to the Varden. Saphira opted to stay outside of castle, in the courtyard saying it was getting boring in the stronghold. She stayed outside observing people or just basking in the sun while it shone, brightening her scales to more than sapphires. Eragon and Arya went to their room, extremely exhausted from their trials. They had wanted to thank Lady Elena, but said it was for the best if they did not see her again.

Deciding he wanted some time to think about the next order of things, Eragon pulled up a reclining chair and looked toward the sea. His thoughts were running a mile a minute. He was right in choosing his mother to speak to, but the information she gave him was just as discerning. He did not have the time to fully react to his mother's memories, or his of meeting his mother for the first time in his life. Eragon needed to put these personal problems away and focus on the next best course of action. He let out a long breath and leaned back in his chair. _It will never get easy. _

_It is better to have the time to search through your thoughts than to be on the battlefield bombarded with emotions you are not able to control. _

Arya's voice of reason echoed in his mind. _Arya…_his one tie to sanity. Saphira could never be that tie, their minds were one, mere extensions. His problems were hers and vice versa. Arya was his only anchor, their only anchor. Her voice pulled him back from the darkest of places. Her beautiful, melodic voice captured his ears, tensed his entire body, and seemingly relaxed his tension. Her voice was far more exquisite than the song of the swan or the flight of an eagle. Smoother than the coat of a Shrrg, and more mesmerizing than the walk of a tiger. Beauty incarnate, perfection exemplified, that was Arya. There were not enough words in any language to describe what she was. Every description fit her, yet none captured her. She was the epitome of all things wonderful, yet so much more than that. His salvation in short. His sanity or even his happiness. He could write thousands of poems for her and never praise her enough. Yet the only way he knew how to love her was to show exactly what he felt for her. A multitude of emotions, inseparable from the rest. The tumultuous feelings she aroused in him were just as strong as they were indescribable. To give justice to their intensity, he did not even attempt to.

He watched her slowly walk to where he sat. She kneeled to his side, watching him intently. She rendered his entire being useless. Arya smiled at that. Eragon lifted his hand to brush his thumb back and forth over her cheekbone. She stood up, and turned herself around facing him. Delicately placing one hand in the small space next to his hip bone, she lifted herself up and laid on top of him. Because of his torso being propped up, Arya could not comfortably lie in his arms across his chest, so she opted to turn in her spot so her gaze was parallel to his, towards the sea. She brought her hands to rest on her stomach. Eragon lifted his arms to hold his love close to him. She brought him peace even in the most catastrophic of times.

Believing Eragon had to come to his own terms for dealing with what to do next, Arya ensured she would provide the most supportive environment she could. Frankly speaking, she was not that great of a cook. Neither was she as poetic as Eragon, the only solace she could provide was her presence. She felt a bit useless, after all, how many times had Eragon comforted her, cared and loved her, while she did…nothing. Or at least nothing compared to what he had done for her.

_That is most definitely not true. You do not have to do anything to protect me, or bring me out of my depression. All you need to do is be there, spend a few moments with me, or speak to me. The thought of you heals me. I, on the other hand, do not provide that solace for you, so naturally I make my gestures more obvious, not bigger. _

_There you go again Eragon. There are you go being your poetic self and here I am in awe of your words. _

_Is that possible? _

Arya scowled, _Is what possible? _

_Is it possible that I made the princess of elves, master of diplomacy and double meanings, be in awe of words? I had not thought of myself as that capable. _

_Oh shut it, Eragon, by know you should have a fairly good idea as to how talented you are with words. Writing a poem in the Ancient Language based on fictional events is a very difficult thing to do. I know of only a few other fiction books and both were written so that the sentences may or may not have a relevance to each other, ensuring that all statements at one point of time would have been true. You can imagine the result – a rather horrible written, unclear book. Yet, you had written a poem mastering that skill of metaphorical meanings on an allegorical level. That is not easy. I speak well to those who do not know the nature of elven speech, but I was considered rather bad at those things. _

_At what age, Arya, twelve? Thirteen maybe? _

_No, my mother criticized me for my lack of speaking skills until my twenty-third birthday. Then she never did get a chance to._

_Well, you continue to awe me with your words. _

_How so? _

_I simply do not pay attention to what you are saying, but rather what you look like when you say it or how I feel when you say it. It is quite mesmerizing. _

_Eragon! What you are saying is that you do not pay attention to what I say!_

_It was merely a jest Arya, I do listen to what you say. More often than anyone else for that matter. And to be honest Arya, your mother was overly critical of you. At that young of an age for any race, it is hard to master the skills of speaking diplomatically. And I am sure that even for a young age, you did exceed standards. You do speak very well, a true master of words. _

_Perhaps you are right. But just this once. _

_That has never happened before. _

_What? _

_That someone admitted that I am right. Usually Saphira is always right. _

_I said perhaps, not that you are. _

_I stand corrected, well no, I sit corrected with my legs raised up before me and holding my everything in arms. _

_That, iet liduen Shurtugal, that you are right about. _

_Iet Drottningu, I need your help. I do not know of the right course of action. _

_What are we thinking of? _

_The situation is as we know. Armies from the West sail our way as we speak. This we know of. However, we have no way of knowing if only the armies to the West are coming this way to destroy the Varden. With the help of my mother, I know the secret passageways through the castle of Galbatorix and therefore can easily navigate myself. What we need are the written plans, letters, documents of whatever we can find associating with these upcoming battles. _

_We need to sneak into the castle and find them. _

_That I do not know, is it worth it or is the risk worth it that the lands to the West are the King's last measure of defense. _

_We know that the elves, Urgals, and dwarves make their way to the frontline of the sea. As far at the other side of the Varden, I do not know if there will be another attack soon. _

_We need his battle plans. _

_But you cannot be the one to get it. If you do not wish your mother's memories to be given to another elf or human, then I shall for the castle as soon as possible. _

Eragon's arms tightened around Arya. "No, I will not send you into the clutches of him. I cannot risk you. I will not risk it."

_Then what do you propose, I, for one, will not allow just anyone to have access to your mother's memories. _

_Arya, my mother is dead. There is nothing I can do about that. Her memories cannot be changed or altered or forgotten. They are there, and inerasable just as her actions were. But you, iet naunen, you are alive, and I will not risk your life for the honor of a woman who has already died and whose actions are already known. _

_Eragon, she is your mother!_

_And you are my mate, iet gedwey __fëon__ (my shining flower). I will never willingly let you go into the hands of danger just to save my honor. It does not matter who or what my past is. You have taught me that. What matters is who I am because of it. I have nothing to be ashamed of. _

A tear rolled down her cheek, amazed that the man protecting her with his strong arms would also go as far as entrusting another with memories that never should have been shared in the first place just to keep her out of danger. She was, by no means, unable to go. But she would not have wanted to go. Stalking a monster in its lair was never the smartest thing to do.

Eragon turned Arya in his arms and wiped the tear from her eye. He stretched more fully out, leaning the chair back so it was nearly parallel to the ground. He closed his eyes, pressing Arya's body close to his own.

_Do not worry Arya, we will pick someone trustworthy and with much experience in these affairs. Neither of us are trained to spy. It would be a suicide mission without experience. _

_We should inform Nasuada. _

_When would you like to do so? _

_Now. _

_Somehow I knew that, fine, let me get up. _

_I am very pleased to point out that you are the one preventing me from getting up. _

_Then get me up too. _

Arya let out a small chuckle. Only Eragon could make her cry and laugh within seconds. It had only been a month and a half since she and Eragon had admitted their love for each other, and she already lost count of how many times she smiled, laughed, or cried. Using magic, Arya lifted Eragon up, and since he had not let her go, he had lifted her up as well. He sighed in mock defeat, the laughter showing through his eyes. In accordance with his expression, Arya began to laugh. Eragon's hands went to frame her face. He lowered his head and gently brought his mouth to hers. He moved his lips over hers, coaxing her to open her mouth and when she complied, he swiftly slipped in, engaging her tongue in a slow dance.

Eragon finally pulled away after several minutes. "It felt like ages since we have done that."

Arya thought back to the last couple of days trying to remember the last time they had kissed, she could not remember. But truthfully, that did not mean anything because she was never in her right mind after she kissed Eragon. He seemed to have that effect on her.

Amused at her thoughts, Eragon sent her a quick smile. "We should go see Nasuada about what we think is best."

"Then let us go and see her."

Hands intertwined, they sought the leader of the Varden. Her room was blocked by two guards. Stating who they were, Eragon sent the guard inside to request an audience. The door opened again, and Nasuada came out to personally greet them.

"It is good to see you again. Come on in, I need the details of this last adventure of yours."

Eragon smiled back held the door open for Arya to enter, he quickly followed.

"So, start at the beginning, what exactly happened?"

"Well, Lady Elena led us to the stone or the portal to be more exact. Once she did, she left requesting that I never face her again. I then talked with Saphira briefly and I decided to call upon the soul of Selena, my mother, to gain more knowledge of the layout of the king's castle. Saphira pointed out that the timing was unusual that Murtagh attacks, giving us ample time to prepare for the attack from the West. We could assume this a setup, but I do not think Galbatorix planted the story because Murtagh would have died much more easily if that were the case. But instead, Murtagh had to fight the king off in order to be overcome by me. Which leads us into the next dilemma: we believe that the attack from the West is only the first of a series of attacks on the Varden. But to be sure, we need to get the king's battle plans. Therefore, we called upon my mother's soul as she had very intimate knowledge of the king's palace layout. I have the layout embedded in her memories that she decided to show me. Arya and I believe the best course of action is to give these memories to another experienced spy and send that man or woman on a mission to gain the information contained in the battle plans of Galbatorix's. What do you think of it?"

"That is surely a lot to think about, but I have to say that I agree with you. The timing does seem off in a way. However, I do not have a man able to do this task. My spies are not well trained and are most definitely not ready to take on a mission like this. They are young, in their twenties, so they have not the time to gain experience."

Arya spoke next, "Then how about we send an elf instead."

"Who can we send?"

"One of those assigned for Eragon's protection. They are all experienced spellcasters, yet one man in particular has already completed a task like this before. I suggest we take the idea up with him."

"Very well, will you speak with him?"

"Yes, Eragon and I will leave immediately."


	6. Chapters 2731

(A/N) The poem is the english translation of a song of A.R. Rehman, the same composer who did the songs to Slumdog Millionaire, the song is called Ajooba from the movie Jeans, and the lyrics are a little bit altered. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I really loved reading all the comments.

Chapter Twenty – Seven: Sorrow for one, hope for all

Leaving Nasuada's tent, the couple walked towards the elven encampment. Most of the elves had opted to stay in their tents where they could keep a closer eye on the proceedings as well as watch for any unusual behavior. They were also relatively isolated and most of the Varden, except for a few humans who had befriended an elf, kept away from them.

Eragon knew Arya was having troubling thoughts. Her mind was filled with the uneasiness of asking another to into Uru'baen and literally dance around the King's feet hoping to avoid his step. It was a dangerous task for even the most experienced of elves.

"Arya, I do not think it wise to ask somebody else. I shall go in this elf's stead."

"Have you lost your mind!? Eragon, do not mistake my uneasiness for doubt. I was never fine with sending anyone in there, not me, not another elf, and certainly not you."

"Iet naunen, wait and listen before you say anything. Sending another person, no matter who, will be dangerous. We do not know how thin the ice we are threading on is. But if something goes amiss, I have the strength to get out, the other elf will not. I will not be so careless with my life this time, but we need to take things into perspective. I have the memories from my mother, but they are fragmented. Only I have the ability to make sense of the layout because she has put the memories in order for me. I am not sure that aspect of the memory will go into the transfer of pictures. That being said, I look more human than any elf even after they change their facial features. After all, I am a human."

"You are more elf than you know."

"I am not sure what I am. I have the abilities of an elf with a mindset of a short life like a human, a family with the dwarves, and an extension of a Dragon. I know not what I am."

"You are Eragon, a Dragon Rider, a unique race of your own." Arya looked away, knowing he was right and hating every aspect of it. She knew he would say something like that, she knew it and it still had not made hearing his words any easier. Of course he would sacrifice his life to save another from doom.

"I am not sacrificing anything. I will return safely. I will not sacrifice our relationship on a mission that does not require much confrontation."

"What makes you think that you can do something an experienced elf would have trouble with?"

"I do not know, but I know that I can get out of it alive. If for nothing else, my powers can be used for a distraction, since I do not actually have to utter words to use magic."

Looking back at his determined face, Arya let her hands rest on his chest. She leaned into his chest and felt his comforting arms envelope her.

"I am afraid."

"You have nothing to fear. Nothing shall happen to me."

"You cannot know that."

"Arya, iet evarínya nuanen, I know that I will do everything in my power to come back to you."

"What will Saphira say and now Nasuada? We must inform the Varden leader."

"I am not worried about convincing Nasuada as much as convincing Saphira. She cannot go with me and the last we were separated, we both felt like we were torn from part of our body."

"I felt like my heart was about to tear out, and because I was not bounded to stay with the Varden as Saphira was in case Murtagh or Thorn attacked, I chose to come after you."

"Thank you for that. Had you not come, I would have lost myself in my own thoughts of right and wrong."

The elven princess took his hand and walked to find Saphira. They had horrid news to break, and they both knew how badly Saphira would take it. Saphira was basking in the sun, her eyes were closed and she reveled in the heat on her scales.

_It seems you two have dismal news. _Saphira started the conversation, startling them both.

_Saphira?_

_Yes, Little one. What do you wish to tell me?_

_You know of our decision to select an elf to send to Uru'baen. _

_Eragon, do not treat me like a child, incapable of making connections. I knew, I have known for a long time now that you have decided to go instead. And you are here to inform me that I cannot accompany you._

_I am sorry Saphira. _

_Oh little one, there is nothing to apologize for. I know your decision is honorable, but know this. Should you not return within five days of reaching there, I will come for you. And I will rip apart the castle and burn its inhabitants. I will not risk you. Your life is more important to me than anyone else's in Alagaesia. It is more important than Alagaesia itself. Five days Eragon, that is all I give you to complete your task in his lair. _

_I love you very much Saphira, I will return to you. _

_Go, tell Nasuada and come back when you are done telling her. _

Eragon nodded, he knew what Saphira was feeling. Sadness, anxiety, even anger that they had to separate again. But the overcoming emotion was dread. They dreaded the upcoming days apart from each other. That sinking feeling leaving a gaping hole, freezing the insides. For once, Eragon wished that time would slow down, that the time between their separation would last longer. He walked over to his dragon and scratched the back of her ears. He kissed her snout and held her long muscular neck to him.

Saphira nuzzled his head and neck. _Go, little one, go and return quickly to me. _

Eragon turned and left. Arya had stayed behind, keeping Saphira company, something the dragon was very appreciative of. Arya had wanted to come with him, to Uru'baen, but she knew that if she left, the Varden's position without their Rider and soldiers that could come at any moment to distract them was not in the best interests. She knew that she would take Eragon's role in the war, in the battle.

_Do not fear, little princess, there will be no war in the time I have given him. I give him eight days to go and come back, fulfilling his duty. And then we fight those from the sea, and then we fight the king. _

Eragon walked quickly towards the leader of the Varden's room. He knew Nasuada would not take it well, but this was the price and the insecurity of war. He knocked on the door and waited for her to open it. The door creaked open and Eragon caught sight of one of her guards. Seeing it was him, he opened the door more fully.

"Is the Lady Nasuada here right now?"

"Yes, Shadeslayer, she is."

Eragon walked in and found Nasuada sitting at a table looking over some letters from various traders and delegates.

"What is it, Eragon? Have you talked to the elf?"

"Nasuada, there has been a change of plans. I do not think it wise to send someone with the power I do and the knowledge I have into the king's castle and expect him to succeed. I believe it best that I go instead. It will not take more that seven to eight days total, a day or so to go and five to complete my mission, and a day or so to come back. We shall have plenty of time before the battle from the sea commences."

"And there is nothing I can say that will change your opinion."

"I think not, Nasuada. I am the best suited for this job. Very well, get yourself ready, you will leave tomorrow morning."

Nodding, the Rider left the room and made his way back down to Arya and Saphira. Seeing them in the courtyard, exactly where he had left them, Eragon was practically jogging to get to them.

"I leave tomorrow morning." Eragon announced when both his dragon and his mate were in earshot.

"We know, we heard your conversation."

Eragon expected as much, but he did not know how else to break the tension.

Arya let out a small laugh. "You are at a loss for words. This is a moment in history."

"I maybe at a loss, but you are not. I simply know what to say in certain situations, you know what to say in every situation."

"Quite the talker you are this evening. Perhaps you are able to win over every woman you speak to. Evidence provided by Saphira and Nasuada."

Eragon laughed at that. Once he heard Arya join his laughter, he stopped, but his smile remained on his face. He watched her laugh, and his eyes were never bored. Her entire face was springing with happiness. On the eve of a dismal part, he was laughing and she was laughing. He marveled at her, was marveled by her. There was no pain she could not take away. Just when he believed he would lose his sanity over killing, she came to him. Like an angel sent from the stars, she saved him. She pulled him back from mulling over thoughts he could not find an answer to. After, when his dreams proved to be unbearable, when Angela's prophecy proved to be the last straw, she came after him. She held him like a mother would hold a crying child and comforted him to no end. And knowing his nightmares still plagued him, she loved him. And her love was such that it forced any feelings of pain from his body. He was filled with her love. And now her laughter, now it was his laughter he would remember when he left tomorrow morning.

He silently padded across the grass, like a wolf at ease in the forest. He took her breath away by simply moving. She could not place why she was in a jovial mood, considering he was leaving for the heart of the Empire tomorrow morning. But something in her, or to be more exact, something in him made her believe that everything would be alright. Love was a funny thing – it could pain one's heart to no end, or give the strength to laugh in the direst of situations. The only way she knew how to describe it was to say love was Eragon. Somehow that description fit more than other poem or novel written on love. That word, Eragon, fit. She watched with baited breath as he made his way over to her. He leaned against Saphira, hearing her rumble her acknowledgement, once again basking in the sun knowing her Rider was safe next to her.

Eragon sat barely centimeters from Arya, but even that distance seemed too much to bear. She moved over, closing the small distance quickly. Their thighs touching, Arya moved her hand over his bicep and leaned her head down. She felt his arm shift slightly underneath her head and moments later, his hand laid on her thigh – thumb moving side to side. She had no idea how long she was in the courtyard, comforted by Eragon's presence, but her next memory was moving up the stairs.

Arya groggily opened her eyes and took notice of her situation. She was being carried by an all too familiar person, and they were heading to their room. _Their room._ Arya liked the sound of that. Being a princess and an only child assured that she never had to share anything, she would always be alone. Her friends were courteous, aware she was a princess. Faolin was careful or possessive, aware she was future heir. But Eragon, he was normal. He was extraordinary, but he was normal with her. He shared his life and she shared her life. It was not one or other the other, but both. There were no separate beds or separate living areas, everything was shared. And she loved it. She loved having another person with her, knowing they could not avoid each other even if they wanted to. Years of being alone made her sick of it.

_And I will never leave you alone. _

His voice resounded in her mind, strong, stoic, confident, perfect.

"Where is Saphira?"

"Night has fallen, she is back in the dragonhold. You were nearly asleep for four hours. The heat has made everyone rather tired."

They had reached their room. Opening the door with magic, Eragon entered with Arya safely tucked away in his arms. He walked towards to the bed and laid her down. Kissing the top of her head, he moved back to change into a more comfortable tunic and his favorite felt pants. He undid his sword and lifted his tunic off. As he motioned for other one, he felt a hand stop his.

"We most definitely will not be needing that tonight. I believe I fell asleep earlier today so I can stay up the entire night."

Eragon smiled at Arya's words. He liked that about her, she knew what she wanted and she was not afraid to take it. She gently stroked his arm and leaned in closer. Gently kissing him, she let her hands rove over his muscular chest and down his back. She undid his breeches and moved her leg to push them down to his feet. She led him quietly to the bed, dimming the flickering candles and closing the curtains.

MATURE CONTENT DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO

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"Make love to me, iet liduen Shurtugal."

Eragon answered her demand with a silencing kiss. He coaxed her tongue to open, urging her to let him through. She complied and the effect was tenfold. His tongue dueling with hers, Eragon moved his hands to her tunic. He slipped underneath and faintly touched her body everywhere. Arya felt he was barely touching her, yet he created such amazing sensations. She pulled him closer, demanding he be more forceful. Feeling him smile against her lips at her outright command, Arya pushed his tunic up and out of the way. It lay in the heap in the corner waiting for the other articles of clothing.

Eragon left her mouth, making his princess gasp underneath him. He trailed his mouth down the front of her tunic till he reached her waistline. His hands followed his lips, and finally settled at the edge of her tunic, pushing it up. He followed the same pathway to Arya's neck, only underneath the restricting material. With a smooth motion, he lifted her arms with one hand and stripped of her light silver tunic. His eyes roving over her body once more, he quickly undid the laces of her undergarment and pulled them off. His gaze never left her body, much to Arya's delight. He laid down on her once again, capturing her lips more slowly – as if savoring the moment.

Pulling his head back, Eragon stared down at Arya's emerald eyes. She softly gasped at the expression in his eyes. Never had she seen such an intense emotion before, no matter what it was. Her mind fully merged within Eragon's, she lifted her hand to stroke her beloved's face. Her fingers trailed his forehead, over his eyes, his nose, his lips, his mouth, the stubble formed over the cheek, over his defined jaw line, and his stubborn chin. Trying to memorize his features, her fingers shifted to rest on his cheek.

Eragon laid his hand on Arya's neck, just underneath her jaw. His thumb stroked the outskirts of her jaw. He leaned down and kissed her breathless. He never moved his body closer, just his lips moving fervently over hers.

He whispered in her mind, so softly he could not believe he had even said it, _Iet Drottningu, __iet __evarínya nuanen__, iet gedwey __fëon_, _iet Arya, my everything. I love you and I will love you until I am reduced to nothing. _

She could not speak, simply not able to form coherent words. So she settled to pull his beautiful body closer, unable to take the distance any longer. Arya's hands worked at his belt; luckily it was not as intricate of a design. She unclasped the hooks and pushed the extremely offending material from his legs. She felt him kick the breeches the rest of the way off. Out of their own accord, her hands roamed over her Rider's muscles, over his chest, and finally down his back and in his thick mass of hair. She gasped as Eragon's hands moved under her felt pants. They stroked down once, and then threw her last barrier off her body.

Eragon tried to control his aching body, but it was taking control far too fast. His voice hoarse, he rasped, "Arya, I can't wait any longer."

"Then don't." came her swift reply.

Slowly, Eragon lowered his body and found her moist entrance. Capturing her lips one last time, he pushed his body straight to her core. He kept a steady rhythm and soon Arya moved against him, raising her hips to meet his throbbing length. Arya was close to her limit, but he kept her right on edge, unwavering in his steady assault. He moved against her again, picking up the pace slightly. When he felt he was close, he leaned over, moving his lips heatedly against hers. They came together, earth shattering, like a pleasure unknown to either. Eragon fell against her tired body, worn out and spent. But for the moment, they were both sated – for now.

END MATURE CONTENT

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Arya looked into his deep blue eyes. She turned away quickly, closing her mind from him – something very uncharacteristic. They rarely closed their minds from each, in fact, the only time they had was when they had fought in the recent battle. Knowing something was wrong, Eragon moved next to the side of her turned head. He propped his head on his hand, semi sitting up to look at his elf. When she turned away again, he caught her chin and gently brought his head towards her. When he was looking into her beautiful emerald eyes, the love showing through his, he stroked his thumb back and forth across her chin. He brought her lips to her forehead and kissed her gently. He leaned back, but let his hand remain.

"What is disturbing you Arya? This is unlike you."

"Unlike me?" A tear slipped from her eyes before she could catch it. Seeing the moisture run treacherously down the side of her cheek, Eragon kissed it away, capturing the salty drop before it fell into the soft sheets.

"Iet gedwey fëon (My shining flower) what is troubling you?"

Arya could not bring herself to answer. He was leaving the next morning, leaving for eight days to a place where she could not go. A place where she would not be able to protect him or even be by him. It reminded her of those three weeks she had to suffer without him, the time she was alone.

"Eragon, you promised me…you promised me you would be by my side when I woke up. You promised me that you would not leave me again, that you would be there when I need you. And now you are leaving on a mission that you must complete alone. And leaving me alone."

He understood now, he understood her distress. She need not explain any further. Trying to take her pain away, he bent his head toward her lips again. He pushed against her lips coaxing her to respond and when she finally did, Eragon prodded her mind. She let her barriers down and he surged in. He pushed through feelings of comfort, understanding, and most of all, love.

"Arya, I am sorry. Truly, I am. But these days will go by faster than we both know. I know I am putting you this again and I am sorry. Believe, the last thing I ever wanted to do is cause you any pain, but I am afraid that the safest way is this. I need you here to oversee preparations for the armies from the West."

He saw her nod her agreement. But her sadness refused to budge.

"Arya…" Eragon let a tear escape his eye. "I love you and I will come back. There is nothing I would want more than to be able to go to some remote place, where no one could harm us and where we would live in peace, together till the end of time itself. But we cannot, not after this war is over. And this separation will not be in vain. This investigation will hopefully end it sooner."

"I know, hold me until the sun rises, so I can feel safe in your arms for the longest time possible."

The Rider nodded and wrapped his arms around his delicate princess's body. She turned in his arms, face buried in his shoulder and hands encased against his chest. It was as if she was burrowing herself inside of him, trying to be so close that they could never separate, that he could never leave without a part of her.

_Arya, __iet __evarínya nuanen, I will never leave without a part of you. And you will never be without a part of me. I have your heart, and you have mine. We will never be without the other and you have my word that I will do everything in my power to keep yours beating._

She smiled against his chest, and enveloped her arms around his significantly larger frame.

_You are a true poet. _

_And you are my only inspiration. _

_Sleep well tonight, may the upcoming journey keep the plagued sleep away. _

_As long as I have you, with me or within my heart, the plagued sleep stays buried so deep no one can find it. I will rest with thoughts of you to keep me safe. _

Arya sighed contentedly; somehow the weighted thoughts left her mind and all was left was her happiness to be in the presence of the man she loved more than any other being. Eragon hoped if he left his eyes open longer, then he could somehow slow down the inevitable rising of the sun, but to no avail. The drowsiness eventually took him and he soon fell asleep with his love nestled in his arms and his mind safe in hers.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: The beginning of an end

As if the fate of Alagaesia had taken a form and woken him, Eragon's eyes shot open at exactly two and a half hours before the sun was scheduled to light his journey that day. He glanced down to see Arya awake, her eyes were staring out the window unbelieving that time moved that quickly. He gently moved his hand over her arm informing her that he was awake. She turned her head up and kissed the underside of his jaw. Pushing him down so he lay flat on his back, Arya propped herself up on an elbow and looked into his eyes.

"How long have you been awake Arya?"

"A couple of hours now, it is almost time Eragon, get ready. You cannot take Brisingr as it is now. Perhaps change the scabbard so it will be unnoticeable."

"You are right, I will look for a suitable replacement for it."

"Eragon, get ready and I will go to the arms and look for a replacement. I will be back shortly."

Eragon watched as she gracefully lifted herself from their bed and got dressed. She turned and smiled at him before swiftly walking out of the door. Eragon sighed as she left, the room suddenly feeling cold and abandoned. He filled the water with hot water and stepped in. The hot water massaged his muscles as he sat and thought. On horseback, it would take him about a day and a half to travel to Uru'baen. After he reached the outskirts of the city, he would have to enter under a guise. _Thomas…no, too common. Thane…nay, far too extraneous. What could be a good name? Something I would remember and would not be too conspicuous. Arast…That is a good name. Not too common and easy to remember as it mimics my name. _It took a while for Eragon to realize that the name Arast did not in the slightest resemble his name at all, in fact, it resembled Arya's name.

_It's for the better, I rarely say my name anyway. _Amused at his thoughts, he brought his focus on getting in the castle. It was better to have no record of anyone like him entering or exiting the place, so he would have to sneak in past the guards. Using magic was too far of a risk. The king had those employed who studied the surges of magic on a daily basis and if he used magic to lift himself over the castle walls, they would no doubt be alerted. He would have to save his magic for smaller things, things that any magic user could do with relative ease. And his face…he would have to change his face. He stood out by his elven features. No other could claim their humanness with features like his. And then entering the castle itself. Night would be best. He would sneak in the darkness of the night, and sneak out by the morning under the guise of a soldier on night watch duty. He would only need one day to find the information, so the other four days Saphira allotted to him would be to track and find all the other generals under Galbatorix's command and pick up any information from them.

This was easily one of the most difficult missions he had ever been on. He never had so much to lose before. It provided him some solace that if he died not many would mourn him as Eragon, only as the hope of Alagaesia. He hated making others cry, and he liked that there would only be a few who cried at his funeral. But now, he risked the sadness of at least a dozen others if he failed. Especially the two that mattered most to him – Arya and Saphira.

He heard the door softly open and he felt more than heard Arya's light footsteps fall across the floor towards the bathroom. Eragon was already staring at the doorframe for her. She looked through and smiled when she saw him. Holding up two different scabbards – both clean, yet bland compared to what Brisingr's true scabbard looked like.

"Eragon, both of these fit the length so there should not be a problem covering the blue of Brisingr, however I think this one –" she held up the thick leather based cover, "will be easier to maneuver in on a horse and on foot. And not to mention it's common."

He nodded and lifted his body from the now chill water. He dried himself with magic and found his clothes. He picked out a bland traveling wear. A pair of worn out breeches, comfortable for riding a horse. He put on a white shirt, with simple design in the front leaving a V exposed running from his neck to the middle of chest muscle at the lowest point. Locating a golden colored vest, he put it over the shirt and worked at the laces. He had gotten quite good at it, but he could never start the process properly. He must have looked extremely confused because seconds later, he felt Arya do the laces for him. They ran down his front, almost like a garment for protection as much as warmth. He found a black cloak, something to hide his face from the wind and to keep him unnoticed in crowds.

Eragon smiled down at her, but walked away to find a mirror. He put the cloak on, he looked formidable. Something dark, something unknown traveling in the light of the day. Arya watched as he placed his hand in front of his face and say an incantation to change his features. He lost his elven features, making him look like the Eragon she had first seen, the Eragon that saved her…for the first time. The Rider that captured her heart even before he was strong enough to hold off her opponents, but not before he was strong enough to hold off her nightmares. It seemed like such a long time ago. His eyebrows unslanted, and his jaw was slightly less refined, much more human like, much more manly like. His ears lost their point, making his features look normal, but together something completely different. He was much more rugged looking, but even that was beautiful to look at. He was just a handsome man, no matter if his features remained elven like or human like, he was a handsome man.

She knew that many other women, both elven and human, considered Eragon the more handsome of men to walk. It was surprising to her that even elven women considered Eragon handsome before his change, but then again, with a face like his, there are not many women who would not consider the young Rider as such. She came out of her thoughts when she saw him look dejectedly at his features.

"Can you imagine Arya, it has not even been a full year since the Blood-Oath Celebration and my transformation, yet I can hardly recognize myself without my elven features. Have I changed so much?"

Arya smiled at his conundrum, "Yes and no Eragon. Yes, you have changed, you are much more powerful, much more of a warrior and more mature than most elves. You have changed because of your experiences more than your appearance. It is only because of how many experiences you have had since your transformation that you do not recognize yourself before it. The reason is because the Eragon before and the Eragon after have changed significantly. But you have not changed in other aspects."

He looked at her quizzically, "How have I stayed static?"

"Your eyes, Eragon, have never changed. They are still the brightest blue, the deep ocean blue under the brightest sun is the color your eyes are. They have not changed in their intensity or their expressiveness. And your attractiveness has not changed either. You have always been attractive, before and after your transformation, there were women both elven and human lusting after you. Believe me, I know exactly how many women thought of you as attractive."

"There is something else that has not changed either, iet Drottningu."

Arya looked back into his eyes, after momentarily looking away once she admitted she hated others desiring her Eragon.

When she made no move to speak again, Eragon continued walking ever so softly, ever so closely towards her. He cupped her face with both his hands and said, "What has not changed is the women I love. No matter how many times my face changes or my abilities change, I will always love you. The one constant is that I love you." He kissed her softly.

"There only a small hour before the sun fully rises, you should be getting ready to go. Nasuada is waiting for you along with Roran and Katrina. No one else knows of this latest mission of yours. Saphira is waiting upstairs for us. We should leave soon."

Arya smiled at him after relaying the information. She laid her hand on his cheek and he turned in her hand, placing his lips against her palm. "Eragon, I love you very much."

He smiled widely back at her, "Come, let us meet my departure party." His eyes held amusement and his voice contained laughter. There were no others who could light her world by a little laugh here and there, no other except Eragon and she wanted to keep it that way. Hand in hand, they made their way up to Saphira.

_Little one, did you sleep well? _

_Of course Saphira, with the two strongest entities guarding me, namely you and Arya, I slept peacefully. _

_I am glad little one, this journey will be the hardest yet. _

Eragon scratched the majestic dragon's ear. He kissed her snout and lifted himself into her saddle. Arya followed suit, wrapping her arms around him and leaning her forehead in the joining of his shoulder blades. Out of habit, he placed his arms over hers, holding her in place. Saphira walked towards the edge of the dragonhold and stepped off, spreading her wings simultaneously. They caught the wind and slowly raised her high over the land. It was a quick flight towards the edge of the city. He saw the small bodies of Nasuada, Roran, and Katrina along with Snowfire next to them. Saphira landed next to them. Snowfire immediately walked over to Eragon, nuzzling his hand and moving his snout over his face. The white horse was greeted by the Rider's soft chuckle, "It is good to see you again as well Snowfire." The horse left and went over to Saphira, and bowed his head slightly before walking up and nuzzling her as well. Saphira greeted the horse who backed up and stared quizzically at Snowfire, as if trying to place whether she was still unconscious as she was when he first saw her or if she was someone different.

Arya laughed at the horse's expression. She must have won the horse over because as soon as she laughed, the horse walked over and greeted her as well. Eragon looked on in amusement. He turned back to his family and his leader.

Nasuada was the first to speak, "Be careful Eragon, and good luck. We will all be praying for your safe and swift return." Eragon nodded his understanding and turned to face his cousin. He was about to speak when Roran spoke first.

"I brought Snowfire because you need him more than I do. He at least is a familiar companion of a sorts. He is a great horse, a perfect horse if you ask me and that's why you need him right now."

Eragon nodded, "Thank you Roran, it will be good to have a horse I can trust in this mission."

The Rider thought he saw a tear slip from his cousin's eye, but he could not really tell for within the second, Roran had stepped forward and grasped Eragon tightly in a hug. "Eragon, you have to come back. Do not forget that you are still my family as well. I need you, you are all I have left from the family I came from."

"Do not fear for me Roran, I will return." Only after Roran stood back and tested the resolve in Eragon's eyes did he finally let his Rider cousin go. Eragon smiled and turned towards Katrina. She had watery eyes, but she kept the tears in as best as she could.

Eragon bowed, "Katrina…" He was silenced by her hug. She held him tightly as well. "Be safe Eragon, I could not stand to lose you. Frankly speaking, you are the only family Roran and I have left. Yes, we have those in Carvahall, but it is not the same. Please come back Eragon, I love you very much, we both do."

Eragon smiled encouragingly at his sister-in-law. He laid a gentle kiss on her forehead and replied, "I will be back before you get a chance to miss me. After all, who will Roran worry for after I leave?"

He stepped back and left Katrina in the comfort of her husband's arms. He turned towards Saphira and hugged her incredibly long and muscular neck.

_Good-bye Saphira, I will see you later. I will try my best to do so anyway. _

_Little one, you cannot leave me. I can handle the loss of everyone of my kind, but I cannot handle yours. _

_I will not leave without a fight. There are no enemies that are more powerful than me, except perhaps the king with his dark arts. _

_Remember Eragon, a child can kill a man with the right motivation, you need not be the most powerful of beings to survive. You told me that. You must be careful. Thread lightly or do not thread at all. Be mindful of the ripples you create in the water, they could be mistaken for the natural waves, or they could be noticed as an unnatural change. Do not overlook the details and come back as soon as possible. There is not much here without you. _

_I will return Saphira, safe and whole. I will take yours words to heart. _

He felt the mental equivalence of agreement from Saphira. Bracing himself for the part about to come, he turned around. He still had a hand on Saphira's neck, he could not bear to be apart from her either. He looked at Arya, or tried to. He could not bring his eyes to meet hers. He felt as if he was betraying her somehow, as if he was not fit to love her because of what he was putting her through. She said he gave her emotions, and when he left he took them with him, and he was doing so again.

Arya walked up to her Rider, the tears threatening to fall but prevented themselves through sheer power of will. She tipped his chin to raise his eyes to hers. Holding his chin in place, she leaned forward and captured his lips with hers. Her hand slipped behind his neck, uncaring that the leader of the Varden was watching her unrestricted behavior. It was something she did not have the courage to do before she was with Eragon. She pulled away breathlessly.

"Iet liduen Shurtugal, stay safe for me. If you do not contact me within a day and a half, I will come for you. And if you do no contact me at exactly five days after that I will come you then as well. Now go, go before I lose my resolve to let you go."

Eragon nodded and stepped away, but not before brushing in her mind, _Iet __evarínya nuanen, I will look to the stars to remember you. I love you, stay safe here as well. I have no reason to return with you and Saphira safe. Iet Drottningu, I love you. I will be back soon, I cannot bear to part with you either. _

He turned to Saphira and laid his forehead on her brow, _Saphira, I love you, I will miss you. _

The Great Dragon let a tear slip from her eyes and with that Eragon mounted Snowfire. His sword attached to his side, he whispered the command to go and the white horse took off at a pace fast enough to travel the distance quickly. Arya could not contain her tears any longer. She braced herself on Saphira's side. The sapphire dragon turned and faced her, her snout nuzzling her as well. Arya turned her head back towards Eragon's decreasing figure. His cloak was billowing in the wind produced by his pace. And soon, he was out of sight. Arya turned and looked back at the sorrowful dragon.

_Do not fear Saphira, he shall return to us or we will find him. _

_I will hold us to that little princess. We both cannot be without him and we both will not be without him either. Come, we have work to do. The preparations for the upcoming war must continue and only we know of that actual plan as represented in Eragon's mind. _

_Let us be off then, we have much to do. _

Arya turned to Nasuada, the tears now a dried past refusing to open again. The elven princess smiled at the leader of the Varden and the cousins of her mate. Not in a mood to make small conversation, she respectfully said that she had some work to do associating with the preparations of the war and the status of the soldiers from Ellesmera and those dwarves and Urgals from the mountains. Saphira said her goodbyes and waited for Arya to settle herself. They took off in the skies reducing themselves to small birds in the sky.

They arrived at the elven encampment within a few minutes. Saphira opted to accompany Arya much like she had with Eragon. Arya felt more loved and cared for than honored. To which Saphira replied that it is normal between family. They decided the next week or so would not be as bad as the three weeks they spent apart when Eragon was in the midst of his Grey Folk ancestry.

She met with General Deniere, the elven general in charge of the pikes in the ocean. As soon as she walked on the encampment, the elves immediately bowed and greeted her in the traditional way. She respectfully returned the gesture and went to find Blodhgarm. She located the wolf-like elf. For some reason, she was never extremely attracted to him. His scent was widely known to capture the attention of many female elves, but for some reason not her. The only person's fragrance she was truly attracted to was her mate's: as if he was a forest that had just been rained upon. Even Faolin's scent held nothing special for her. It was like some flower that she had since forgotten the name of. But even before they were mated, Arya loved the distinct fragrance of the Rider.

She walked over to Blodhgarm, who bowed and greeted her in the traditional way.

"Drottningu, how can I help you today?"

"Blodhgarm, I am doing quite fine. How are you?"

"Fine as well. Is there something you need?"

"Yes, can you tell me where General Deniere is? And the progress of the recent detachment of elven soldiers making their way to the ocean?"

"The general is near his soldiers about two miles in the direction of the west looking over the progress of the new weapons. The armies have dispatched from the forests about three days ago and are now crossing over the Hadarac Desert as we speak. Traveling has been relatively quick. They are close to twenty thousand strong and under the command of General Rinnar and General Matheilis, both very experienced and chosen specifically for this task."

Arya nodded and turned to leave. "Thank you Blodhgarm."

She leapt on Saphira again and they both left to see the progress of General Deniere. If the wolf was at all surprised at the princess's choice of mate, he did not show it. It both pleased and nerved Arya. While she was grateful to be left alone, it was cause for concern that not one of the elves had said anything to her about it. But then again, it was not some common elf or nobility of a lower rank she was mated to. It was the Lord of Vroengard and Master Rider of Alagaesia, the last remaining descendent of the Grey Folk, and the most powerful being to walk the earth. It should be no surprise that no one, except her mother, questioned her judgment.

_To be honest Drottningu, I do not believe it has anything to do with Eragon as to why they have not said anything. You are their princess, equally as respected and powerful as your mother and father. They believe in you and they will not question your judgment. They trust your decisions. I do not think they know that Eragon is the last descendent of the Grey Folk. _

_True, but there is no doubt that everyone has seen both of your power increases from your battle with Murtagh and Thorn._

_That may be the case, but they have never questioned your leadership before. And they have no reason to now. There is nothing to worry about, the less time you take explaining yourself to every other elf here the better. _

_I do not know how to answer even if I was asked. _

_I highly doubt you do not know why you love my Rider. _

_I know why I love him, I just cannot explain love. _

_Must you explain love then, must you look to explain an emotion so painful and comforting at the same time. Can anyone explain an emotion as illogical as love? It arises involuntarily, never ceases to die or threatens to never come back again. It is an interesting emotion, it will never cease to capture the attention of writers and poets across the earth, but is it necessary to explain all the phenomena in the world? Why not just bask in its existence and find happiness in it? _

_Yes, that I shall do. I have no reason to find what love actually is, but I have all the reasons to say that I am in love with Eragon and those who may question me will hear the reason as to why I chose to be with him. It is the most honest answer I have. _

_You are a wise one Arya, but do not fear rejection from your people. They have been with you for too long. _

Arya sent the mental equivalence of agreement through the link as they flew to find the General Deniere.

It was two hours since Eragon had left his dragon and his mate looking after him. His heart truly felt like it was shattering as Snowfire sped away. As if sensing his distress, the loyal horse even slowed down his pace. But Eragon raised the pace again, as if scared he would turn and run back if Snowfire slowed down anymore. He felt lost with them, without the knowledge they were but a minute or two away. He looked up from his hooded cloak: the sun had begun to rise fully. It was situated behind him as his horse continued to run towards the capital. The sun's rays chased him, lighting the path the instance he left it, as if keeping his presence cloaked in the darkness of its absence. He was grateful for its attempt, but he could not help but feel it was not shining where he was because of him. Because of his mission of going to a place so evil that no light could reach even its edge.

He sighed, ever since he had become observant of the weather, it served to cause him more distress. It was always a double-edged sword. There were always two sides to a coin and two deductions from one observation. He was reading too much into his natural surroundings, he knew it. But he could not help but bask in it. The uncertainty provided him a solace of sorts. He was certain it would provide him uncertainty and being certain of things, no matter how vexing was a rare commodity in his worlds. He could depend on nature being vexing and its signs even more so. He found hope it that. If there was bad side to it, then there also could be a good side as well – and therein lay his hope.

He was certain of a few other facts as well. He was certain that Arya loved him and Saphira would protect him. He knew Roran cared for him and in Angela's prophecies coming true one way or another. But he was not certain of anything pertaining to this mission. He was not certain he would succeed or even come out alive. He was sure of nothing when it came to this mission. Perhaps it would lead to his success due to his flexibility or maybe his downfall as a cause of his uncertainty.

He pushed his musings out of his head. There was no use thinking of thoughts that served only to vex him further or depress him. He put his mind on his goal and Snowfire responded by increasing the pace even more. Eragon looked back at the fields one last time – the sun had fully risen, there was nothing it would not keep in the shadows now. He was in the light.

Arya was on her way back from speaking with the generals about their progress. Everytime they mentioned Eragon's ingenuity, she smiled at their praise, masking her tears as she remembered he was not with her. Other than their choice of words, Arya was quite pleased with the progress. The elves were now carrying and assembling the materials down by the ocean. The dwarves had finished their catapults, or at least all of the parts. Only the assembly was required. The humans under General Halton were still working at a gruesome pace to dig and place the traps. The maps were being made and updated regularly. They would be done a few days before Eragon was scheduled to arrive from his mission.

Not wanting to be left alone to her betraying thoughts for too long, she and Saphira made their way towards Nasuada to talk over the soldiers that had left for the ocean side. She located the leader of the Varden in her room and silently entered. She cleared her throat to inform of her arrival. The young woman turned her head slowly and smiled.

"Arya, how are you doing now?"

"Quite fine, giving the circumstances. I have just checked on the progress of the weapons and they are right on schedule or a little ahead. We should be done in six days. The elven warriors are in the Hadarac Desert and will be here within five days. I do not know of the dwarves or the Urgals, but General Huvin seems quite pleased of their progress."

"Yes, the dwarves are but a few days away. The Urgals have made their way down and will arrive within three days. All of the armies will be assembled within the coming days. Leaving us close to a half a week before the scheduled time of the armies from the West. And by that time, Eragon should be back from his mission."

Arya looked away, a tear forming, "Yes, he should be coming shortly after."

Diplomatically choosing to ignore Arya's momentary weakness, Nasuada continued, "There is progress within the encampments as well. I hear there are reports of friendships among elves, humans, dwarves, and even Urgals. It seems that we are finally breaching the barriers of appearance under the hood of a common goal. It is nice that the Varden are not only known for their strength and resilience, but their camaraderie as well. Hopefully, these stories will win over the other inhabitants of Alagaesia as well."

"That is truly good news. It will be nice for the soldiers of the Varden to have something to fight for instead of the words of their general. They will fight to uphold their friendships and their family. A new reason to fight and survive is always appreciated."

"Arya, I do not mean to pry, but Eragon is a close friend of mine and so are you due to recent events. You are his mate and I do know consider you part of my close circle of friends. Of course, I did even before you were mated with Eragon, but I could never voice my worries. However, you do not look well. Is something the matter?"

"I am not myself without Eragon, if that is at all possible. It seems that I turn into a machine in his absence and I hate it. I have never been so dependent on someone before, but I find myself not caring anymore. I love him and being without him is taking away a large part of who I am."

"I understand Arya, I am sorry for your predicament. I know exactly how you feel, but be glad that your love is still alive and coming back to you. I do not have the luxury."

Alarmed at her words, Arya walked over and sat down, "What are you talking about Nasuada?"

"Murtagh, I loved him, still do. And he felt the same for me. We made a decision to break off our relationship. I knew he was under the king's rule when I first saw him as the Red Rider. He contacted me first, with his mind he told me what had happened. He said he will continue loving me, but he cannot break the king's hold on him. I told him that I would never stop loving him and I never have. I do not blame Eragon, your mate tried his best. He tried helping Murtagh, but it was to no avail. We knew they day would come when more than distance would separate us, but we could not stop that feeling. When Eragon gave me the news, I was mortified at his loss. But I was strangely happy as well. No longer did I have nightmares of his tortures and multiple horrors he experienced. He died in peace, he died a loved man, and a loving man. I shall wait for the day that duty does not call me forth anymore to peacefully pass into the other realm and join with him again."

"Do you mean to commit suicide Nasuada?"

"Oh no, Arya, Murtagh would never be able to live with himself if I did. I already know of my future. Angela predicted that this war would be the end of me. I will die in this war, die as a victim of my sacrifices. A fitting death, she gave me. I do not mind dying after my purpose is fulfilled. Angela told me that my death would come as an after effect of a war either won or lost. My death will result because we have won the last stand or lost it. Either way, it is coming soon."

"Do you not feel afraid?"

"No, Arya, I do not. You are here safe and sound, yet you would give nothing more than to go after your mate because you love him, even if it means into the clutches of a tyrant. And here I am, safe and sound as well, who would give nothing more than join the man who owns my heart, no matter where that leads me. I have nothing to fear, only the world to gain again. I do not fear death, I fear that staying apart from Murtagh any longer will break me. I accept the fact that I will die, everyone…well except for the elves and the Riders, will die. It is something that we have grown up with. Everything that was once born will eventually die. I do not fear something that all of my kind have never failed to do." Nasuada laughed at her own words, but turned serious quickly. "I love him and I do not fear traveling to the after life to be with him. Just as you would not fear going after Eragon just to be with him."

Arya nodded her understanding, "Did Eragon know of you?"

"Not from me he did not. He saw that we fancied each other, but when I became leader of the Varden he either chose not to press the issue or figured that I had forgotten of Murtagh. We both wanted to keep the information away from him. Later, I wanted to tell Eragon of Murtagh and I. I believed that he deserved to know, but Murtagh was against it. He said that he did not think Eragon would have the resolve to kill him if he knew of us. He wanted Eragon to have a clear conscience when he died by your mate's hand. It was for the best, so we kept it a secret."

"Will you tell him when Eragon returns?"

"I do not plan on it, but you will. You will not keep anything from him and I respect that. You are his mate and mates should not have secrets from each other. I will not ask you to keep this between us two when I know that another being is so vital to your existence. He will know now, it is best that he knows. Whether they shared the same father, they shared the same mother, and even more than that, they had a bond of friendship that ran deeper than the one yours and Eragon's ran. They were willing to die for one another, to constantly prove that they were reliable for each other. And they did love each other, very much so. Even before they found out who the other was, they already considered themselves brothers. I do not mean to undermine yours and Eragon's friendship. But you must take into account that your feelings were romantically linked. Eragon and Murtagh's friendship had nothing of the sorts, just a strong feeling of camaraderie lost in today's age."

"You are right Nasuada. It was so long since that night. Eragon did not even have time to mourn the loss of his friend or the loss of his brother for that matter. Everything had moved so quickly. I wish I was there for him as I am for him now."

"You were, even if you did not openly love each other, he found peace in your presence. It could be seen in his face whenever the two of you were together or the absence when he was alone doing whatever tasks were necessary. You healed him, just as he healed you."

Arya silently nodded, perhaps the Lady Nightstalker was right. When the elven princess made no move to speak again, Nasuada took the opportunity, "Would you like to take a walk with me? It has been a long time since I have done anything just for the pleasure of it. Perhaps Saphira could join us as well."

She had no objection, but no desire to leave Saphira either. Contacting the sapphire dragon quickly, she gave her reply. "Of course, Saphira said she would meet us down by the gardens on the outskirts."

Nasuada picked up a shawl and carefully placed it around herself. She made for the door and motioned for Arya to join her. The three sometimes walked in silence, sometimes talking, and other just admiring their surroundings as the sun set for the night. Arya's thoughts went to Eragon one last time before they retired for the night. Saphira in her dragonhold, Nasuada in her room, and Arya in her and Eragon's room. The elf walked about, suddenly feeling like the room was too empty and far too cold for her liking. She glanced around and noticed something that was not there this morning.

She glided towards the figurine placed ever so carefully in her favorite reading chair near the balcony. It was a fairth, one made by Eragon, of her and Eragon. They were doing nothing but lying next together, her head over his beating heart, and her arm thrown carelessly over his torso. Eragon's arm was holding her to him, across her back. His arm was curved around her back and his fingers rested lightly on her waist. He was looking down at her, but her gaze was captured elsewhere. The stars she assumed, as it was often the case. She picked it up, tears forming in her eyes. Underneath, she discovered a piece of parchment. It was folded neatly and addressed to her, but it never once said her name. Instead it was addressed, "Iet evarínya nuanen, iet gedwey fëon, iet Drottningu" all her names, yet none were. Each was a name given to her by her beloved Rider. Smiling at the address, she moved to open up the paper. Written was poem in the most beautiful calligraphy of the Ancient Language. It read:

_Miracle_

_Where does the fragrance in flowers come from? It's a miracle._

_Whence do the butterflies bring all these colors? It's a miracle._

_How does the flute make air into music? It's a miracle._

_How does a nightingale learn so many lovely songs? It's a miracle._

_There's one more miracle to add to all these:_

_From the earth, from the sky, from the mountains, from the sea,_

_I have heard that love is a miracle._

_In the first glance that strikes two hearts,_

_each agreement is a miracle._

_The fragrance that comes from flowers is a miracle;_

_the colors brought by butterflies is a miracle._

_This music of the flute is a miracle._

_The song the nightingales sing is a miracle._

_There is no fragrance in a branch of a tree,_

_but fragrance rises from flower buds._

_This itself is a miracle._

_The clouds that rise from the sea_

_shower down sweet water;_

_This itself is a miracle._

_Look at a firefly in the forest, and think:_

_how did this light come to it?_

_How does life animate a body?_

_How does desire animate a heart?_

_Just say that these too are miracles._

_From the earth, from the sky, from the mountains, from the sea,_

_I have heard that love is a miracle._

_In the first glance that strikes two hearts,_

_each agreement is a miracle._

_The fragrance that comes from flowers is a miracle;_

_the colors brought by butterflies is a miracle._

_This music of the flute is a miracle._

_The song the nightingales sing is a miracle._

_A miracle..._

_To speak of it, there are many wonders, but perhaps people forget this:_

_there is one more wonder:_

_your silken, pinecone, scented body_

_is a miracle in itself._

_The emerald mirrors of your eyes, the moistness of your lips..._

_this form of yours is a miracle in itself._

_The warmth of your embrace is also a miracle;_

_the softness of your hands is a miracle too;_

_this body like a garden is a miracle._

_From the earth, from the sky, from the mountains, from the sea,_

_I have heard that love is a miracle._

_In the first glance that strikes two hearts,_

_each agreement is a miracle._

_The fragrance that comes from flowers is a miracle;_

_the colors brought by butterflies is a miracle._

_This music of the flute is a miracle._

_The song the nightingales sing is a miracle._

_And the one to whom you are a miracle finds it astonishing as well_

_-Love, Eragon, onr liduen Shurtugal (Your poetic Rider) _

Arya held the poem close to her heart, she closed her eyes and held the fairth with the poem tightly. She tried not to cry, but she could not help the tears cascading down her cheeks. Silent yes, her tears flowed easily and silently, but she still could not get them to stop. There should be nothing to cry about. Absolutely nothing. How could she cry silently with a smile on her lips? What she crying because Eragon was not here with her or at her happiness that she had read perhaps the most beautiful poetry and it had been written for her? Surely this was not possible, surely there was another reason. But she could not bring her mind back from its pieces. She was shattered again, her last measure of resolve had waned with her Rider's poem to her, with his latest demonstration of his love. She hated it, but she would not ever have it another way. She would cry today and then find strength in his words tomorrow. After all, he had forgotten about another miracle – himself. She cried herself to sleep, clutching the fairth of her and Eragon and the poem close to her heart.

Eragon had since stopped for the night about thirty minutes back. He made his usual vegetable stew. Something he had gotten used to since traveling became a part of his daily life. He ate his share, and gave the rest to Snowfire. The horse gulped the rest down and slept soon after. The Rider looked away guiltily. Snowfire had been ridden ruthlessly today. He doubted he had seen a horse with as much endurance, excluding the elven ones. But even so, Snowfire was a close match to their ability. Brom had chosen well, his father had chosen well. He looked at the empty pot and smiled.

The last time he had made this, it was for Arya and that was the first time she had eaten his cooking. It was perhaps the breaking of chafed ice for them. She had finally begun to laugh freely around him, a barrier he thought unbreakable then. Her laughter was more frequent, but still a rare sound. Eragon did not believe he had heard anything as beautiful before, and he doubted he would ever again. The Rider looked to the stars and thoughts again of his elf. She would have returned to her room now, he mused, and she would have found what he left for her. A fairth of the two of them star gazing, happy in love and with each other. And the poem he had written for her. He completed it just that morning. He meant to write it a long time ago, the first time she told him that she believed him to be a poet of sorts. He had the words in his mind for weeks now, but never could bring himself to write it down, just in case she would see ruining the surprise. He took advantage of the time she gave him to find him the scabbard to write down the words and carefully place it so she would not see until she returned to her room later that day. He prayed she would like it, it was his soul written on a small piece of parchment. It was what he thought of her, what he believed she was, everything she was to him. A miracle, a beautiful star, a shining flower, a princess, a vast ocean, a deep forest, and a heart he had once claimed beat for only himself, but now beat for her and only her. His thoughts trailed to Saphira. He hated leaving her again. Eight days without the other half of his soul was practically too much to bear. He wished his dragon next to him, but alas, it could not be.

Eragon sighed deeply, his thoughts stagnant on his dragon and his mate. He quietly put the fire out and curled next to Snowfire. He fell asleep with dreams of running through a forest with Arya and flying over an ocean with Saphira.

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Entrance to hell.

Eragon awoke early the next morning. The sun had only begun to rise, Snowfire was since awake roaming around the campsite as much as his rope allowed. Eragon cleaned up the campsite and mounted Snowfire for that day's journey. If he was not mistaken, he would be in the castle walls by midday. It had been exactly a day since his journey started and it would be another day until he was under the nose of the king. Exactly a day until he would commence the start of the King's downfall. Exactly a day until he would come face to face with the city he swore to save. A day until he would unfold the plot against the people. A day until he reaches hell. His dampened spirit renewed, Eragon leapt onto Snowfire and the pair rode just as fast as the previous day towards the godforsaken city.

Arya awoke later in the day, the sun had since risen and had placed the earth in an uncanny humidity. Her only solace was the wind coming from the ocean just a few hundred miles away. She felt a familiar presence in her mind and dropped her barriers.

_Little princess, I must hunt. I will be back by twelve this afternoon. Eragon is supposed to contact us soon. I will wait by the courtyard when he does contact you. Come to me then. _

_Yes, Saphira, have a good hunt. _

Arya looked around the room, it was fairly the same. Just bland. She was still clutching the fairth and the poem to her heart. Eragon had not broken his promise. He was there as soon as she got up, waiting for her, steadying her. She read the poem once again before finding the will to raise herself off of the ever so soft bed and clean herself for a day's work. She carefully placed the fairth next to the bedside table and she neatly folded the poem and placed it underneath an edge. She took a bath, dressed, and walked back to the bedside table. She decided a poem like that was far too precious to her that she could not be separated from it. The words would be forever etched in her mind, but it was a solace that she could read it whenever she wanted.

She made her way gracefully down the stairs. Now that it was public knowledge that she and Eragon were together, she was able to evade most of the men's lustful glances. The men dared not stare after her when she was accompanied with Eragon, no matter if they were mated or not. For some reason, the Rider instilled a certain fear in them or a certain standard of elegance that all men should have strived to achieve. She had chided herself many times for using Eragon as an unknowing escort, but the peace of mind she felt when she was left alone from those types of men was far too appealing.

"Arya?" The elven princess spun around facing her confronter. It was Roran.

"Roran, how are you today?"

"I am quite fine, I was just looking for you."

"Is there something I can do for you?" Concern was prevalent in her voice, she did genuinely care for her mate's cousin. They were family after all.

"Katrina and I were wondering if you would join us for breakfast this morning. We never did get a chance to really meet with all the chaos and since you are family, we wanted to invite you over."

Arya smiled at her mate's cousin, her cousin now as well. "Yes Roran, I would be delighted to join you."

She did not know how much she could eat at Roran's place. Not eating meat seemed to severely restrict choices when elves dined with humans.

As if on cue Roran quickly replied, "Do not worry Arya. Eragon told us of the diet of elves. We have prepared a completely meat-free meal, which is actually quite good. Katrina is not at all fond of meat. Her father was a butcher and so she was often a first hand witness to animal slaughter. It turned her away from meat ever since." They were walked towards Roran's room now.

Arya turned to study her new cousin. Strong gray eyes, much like his father's. He possessed similar brown hair, though in her opinion, not as thick, long, silky as Eragon's was. Roran had his hair cut short, barely two centimeters of it lay on his head. Eragon wore his hair longer. It was shaggy, unkempt; the longest of his locks fell far down his forehead. They were much alike, in some cases. The mannerisms, the courteous nature, and how they treated women. Roran looked after Katrina like she was queen. In a sense she was, his queen at least. Most human men wanted their women submissive, the usual weak cooking and cleaning type. She often wondered why Roran was different.

They arrived a few minutes after to Roran's room. He inserted the key and opened the door for her. Muttering her thanks, Arya stepped in. Almost instantaneously, she felt the arms of Katrina surround her. She returned the gesture and stepped back to look at her sister-in-law.

"Arya, how have you been?" Katrina smiled warmly, a true smile Arya deduced. "Come, you must be hungry, it is quite late."

The pregnant woman led Arya to a seat at the table. It was set for three, but there were five possible places to sit. She felt Roran quickly follow, getting the water and placing it in the correct spots. He moved to get the hot food from the stove – it was a sugary oatmeal of a sort. Apple and cinnamon aromas wafted from the heated pot to fill up the room.

"Roran, what are you doing? Go and sit down and I will get the food from the stove."

"No."

"Really Roran, do we have to go through this? I am quite capable of getting the food ready."

"I know that you are more than capable, but you are pregnant and you are not supposed to be doing any work."

Katrina gave a side glance at Arya. She looked at the elf and rolled her eyes. "Forgive my husband Arya, it seems when Angela said that I was not to do any exasperating work, Roran interpreted it to mean no work at all. In fact, he even has been cooking when he can spare the time. He learned to stitch clothing and even do the dishes. It is quite amusing."

"Katrina, you know that you are not supposed to do any work."

"Exasperating work, like fighting or running, not daily activities."

Arya looked amusingly at the pair. It was cute. The husband doing everything and the wife complaining. Quite a role reversal, but when had Eragon been anything normal. She wondered what kind of a mate Eragon would be when they were expecting their first child. Arya's smile faded when that thought passed through her head. She had not even thought of children before and now she wanted nothing more than to be a mother. That feeling was frightening. She pushed the thought away, thinking that she would deal with it later. A smile touched her features again as Roran and Katrina sat down next to her and engaged in lighter conversation.

They talked about what Eragon was like as a child, how much he had changed, and how much he had been through. Arya found she was liking Roran and Katrina more and more. Roran seemed impulsive and rash on the outside, but he was truly a family man. He wanted nothing more than to see the war end and his wife and future child to be safe and healthy. He took calculated risks, doing what was necessary to keep his men together under his command. He was a fighter, he could fell many enemies in a battle, but he did not revel in his kills. He did what he had to do to move forward. He acted with purpose in his actions, not anger. An admirable trait.

Checking the time, Arya kindly excused herself after thanking her family for the delicious breakfast and their time. It was close to noon and Saphira was soon to arrive. Eragon would be contacting them soon.

A day and a half was nearing and Eragon could see the skyline of the city in the distance. He would arrive within fifteen minutes. He stopped near a source of water and said the words to scry Arya and Saphira. They were waiting for him, expected he thought. He smiled widely at them, some thirty six or some odd hours away were too much a price.

"Arya, Saphira how are you?"

"We are quite fine Eragon, and you?"

"I am just outside the city, I will enter shortly. I had a safe journey."

"Saphira says that she loves you and she wants you to be successful in your endeavors."

"Can you tell her that I love her very much and I will gather as much information as possible while staying unnoticed?"

"She says that is all she can ask of you."

Eragon nodded, not sure if the rippling water had conveyed that action of his.

"I read your poem."

His eyes bored into hers. "Did you like it?"

"Is that even a question? Of course I did. I loved it, perhaps almost as I love you."

"Then I will continue to write the most beautiful of poems just for you."

"Eragon, we do not have much longer. Stay safe, and return to me."

"I love you."

"And I love you as well. Good-bye."

"Until we meet again iet Drottningu."

"Until we meet again, iet liduen Shurtugal."

Eragon closed the connection and his beloved faces simmered out of view. He stared at the clear water for a few more minutes, bracing himself for what he was about to do. Moving quickly away from the water, he mounted Snowfire once more, said a silent prayer that fate would be kind to him, and commanded the white horse to a gallop. Nearing the gates, he faced his first adversity: getting past the guards of the gate. He did not want to be documented, so he could not enter under the guise of selling goods. For once, he was grateful for his young years. He walked up to the gate.

"Oy, who are you? You cannot waltz into the capital."

In his most braise voice possible, he answered, "Name's Arast. Me Pa was a farmer, but he's gone now. I need a job, ya know how it is, support the family and all."

"Well, well, look at that. A dutiful son, if mine was half as good as you, he would start looking for a job too. Now git yourself and look around."

Eragon nodded and walked in. _First trial was over. _He could not take the chance of walking up to the castle doors in the broad daylight. Waiting for nightfall was the best chance he had, and even then, the same night he arrived could be too soon.

"Oy, you there, wait for a second." Eragon froze, the voice was most definitely the guard's he had just walked past. "Oy, yes you, are you who I think you are?"

_Definitely not good_, Eragon readied himself – forcing the adrenaline in a steady release and his heart to beat faster. Hand on his hilt, his back was turned, but senses alert for any other soldiers. He heard the guard walk up to him, the swish of his mail as he raised his hand. Fear grasped Eragon, his eyes narrowed and his knees were slightly bent in an attacking stance. The guard clasped another man on his shoulder. _Another man..._perhaps his guise was not lost. Eragon stole a glance at his surroundings and saw that the guard had stopped a man to his left. A shaggy, unkempt man. He was a beggar like, but not so much. He had a gold chain, something uncharacteristic of many, let alone beggars.

"Yes you are aren't you. You're the pickpocketer Micah. Guards, arrest this man, and confiscate the chain."

Eragon nearly laughed at his luck, but retaining his composure he straightened his face and walked away from the scene. No, he would not be infiltrating the king's stronghold today. He strolled the streets, familiarizing himself with the new environment. He changed his walk from upright and stoic to more hunched and uncaring. It was the walk of humans in the repressed state they were in. Going unnoticed would save him one day, Eragon would have to become a shadow if he wanted to survive the next five days.

He scanned his surroundings one last time, thinking he would go and rest in for the night. But he saw one scene that captured his attention. A few men, well built, obviously with some connection with the Galbatorix's army dismounted their steeds and walked towards a tavern. They were of great importance, evidenced by the other soldiers prompt salutes and uncoordinated bows. The men of importance smirked in their arrogance, proud that a few seconds after their arrival, lowly soldiers were already kissing their feet. Sickened at the sight, the Rider forced himself to watch the gruesome scene. A few wantonly dressed women walked out to greet the commanding men. One of them grabbed the red haired, scantily dressed woman forcefully. He said something in her ear and then grabbed her face. Brutally turning it towards him, he then shoved his tongue down her throat. Eragon could see the evidence of a slight suffocation. He was disgusted at the man's actions. _No wonder the elves have such a bad impression of humans. It is justified. I can barely stand to look at my own race._

He watched as the same man grasped the woman perversely through her dress. Eragon turned his eyes towards the women. They put a smile on, but their eyes were filled with sadness as the men disgraced their pride in public. The Rider observed as the men and women made their way into the tavern. It was a relatively shabby place, not very high end or particularly clean. It was simply popular, no doubt due to the women there. He looked at the name, "The Burning Horse." Interesting name, he mused, but nothing out of the ordinary. He watched for a little longer as some men were turned away and others let in. Seemingly, only those able to produce coins were let in.

Lightly holding some coins in his hands, he walked over…relaxed, calm, and composed. He looked at the door guard and wordlessly handed him some coins. The guard stepped aside and Eragon entered a chaotic scene. Men were singing and dancing, making grotesque gestures at the serving ladies, who were all rather skimpily dressed. But their bodies held no appeal to him, only Arya's was capable of that. He located the men he observed outside and sat down at a deserted table close enough to hear their conversation, yet far enough to remain unnoticed.

"What be the likes of you here?"

Eragon turned to the questioning voice – a very drunk man, obviously could not control the amount of alcohol in his body. But must be of importance as the surrounding tables had all turned a watchful eye towards him, including the table of men he was interested in. He decided to play it safe.

"The likes of me? What do you mean by that?"

"Well, you sit, you do not dr-rink," his words were slurred, "you ssit, you do not drink, you stare, you do not drink, you do not drink. What is a man who does n-not drii-ink doing in a tavern where drink is all you can drink?"

Eragon let a small smile enter his features, enough to convince he was amused, but not enough to fool himself. "I am looking for a job actually. And I do not think it wise to drink before asking for one."

"Ah you are the working type then. Good, you're hired."

Eragon looked quizzically at the man. As if understanding that the Rider did not understand he elaborated, "Everyone calls me the Basher, I was once a soldier in the King's army. But I was discharged and so I set up a tavern, a rather successful one. I am a drunk and in great need of some help with serving and what not. So you are hired, now go back there and find yourself some work."

Eragon nodded enthusiastically, _perhaps it would be easier than he thought, perhaps. _He thanked the Basher and went into the kitchens.

The first night of work went relatively uneventful. At least so everyone else thought. Eragon did not upset anyone, nor did he make any friends. But he learned and observed more than humanely possible. The tavern was exclusively for the affluent in the city. The nobles who had deserted their wives for the night, generals of the king's army (also the identities of the men Eragon had seen outside the tavern), merchants and sons of merchants exploring their newfound freedom. Eragon observed the Basher as well. He seemed like a good man, trusting and trustworthy. But Eragon noticed that he never revealed more to his story than what he had told Eragon. He was able to retell it in many different ways, using differed words, but essentially repeated the same. The drunk or the inebriated, and the uneducated could not tell the difference. Each believed that they were getting the true story, and so in return they spilled their secrets as well. The Basher was a cunning man, not at all the drunk he portrayed himself to be.

Eragon knew he had to investigate his employer later. But not tonight. He watched the group of generals. Their names were Victor and Ermien, both were commanders of many armies. Neither had ever been in the battle against the Rider or the troops of the Varden, even though their soldiers might have been. They were genius strategists who hated their wives and were unfaithful to them with every chance they had. The red-haired woman, Ardrianne, was the personal favorite of Victor's. The blonde, Marissa, was Ermien's favorite. They talked of nothing in particular, nothing of importance at least. No discussions of battle tactics or future plans. In short, their conversation was a waste. It was about eleven at night when the last of customers were filing out.

Eragon had left Snowfire tethered to a post, anyone would be hard pressed to untie the rope. He turned to pick up the last of pitchers of ale.

"How did you get here?"

Eragon looked up to see the Basher looking at him intently – the traces of alcohol gone from his eyes. He was faking his drunkenness the entire time.

"By horse, he's tied outside."

His employer nodded, and replied, "Go, get your horse and put him in the stables in the back. He'll be safer there. There is a storm coming tonight. I will take care of cleanup. Come back after you are done."

"Yes sir." Eragon left the tavern quickly and found Snowfire. He undid the rope and scratched the horse's ear lightly. He led the white horse to the stables in the back and locked him in place. He seemed grateful to have a warm place to sleep. Eragon smiled at his fine stallion once more, before turning and heading back to the tavern. He entered the place quietly. The Basher was already waiting for him.

"What is your name?"

"Arast."

"Your real name? Do not play games with me."

Eragon narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. When it was clear he would not budge, the Basher sighed, "Come upstairs, we will continue our conversation in less public of a place."

Eragon silently followed the man, keeping his distance in case of an attack. The Basher opened a door and stepped in, keeping it open for Eragon to follow through.

The man turned around and Eragon got a good look at him, finally. He had gray hair, almost white. His eyes were a swirling gray. Well defined muscles, no one could deny that he was an ex-soldier of some sorts. But something did not fit. He was too composed, too good at deception.

"I know who are, Eragon, Rider of Alagaesia." The Rider's eyes shot with alarm, he drew Brisingr and was up in the man's throat within a second.

"Peace Argetlam, I mean you no harm. I know Brom." Eragon remained unconvinced, until he repeated the same in the Ancient Language.

The Rider backed off, but kept his sword pointed at the Basher's neck. The man looked at him, his eyes filled with sorrow.

"I was a friend of Brom's. I was no Rider, but I was general in the King's army. It was not too long ago, just about fifteen years. Brom came and guised himself to win over his love, Selena. It was here we met and got to know each other. I became a Varden man. My loyalties were to Brom and his Varden. In an attempt to stay under my guise, I had to make a choice, to kill some discovered spies or let them go. I let them go, but because of my carelessness, one of my soldiers ratted on me in an attempt to degrade me. It worked, I was kicked out and here I am running a tavern. But what happened in between is most likely what you are interested in. Brom disappeared with Selena for a while. No one except for me, knew that they were having an affair. I kept in contact with Brom, letting him know of the occurrences in the castle when he was not there. I saw Selena return after a while and found out that she was sick. I immediately contacted Brom and he was back here within a day or so. He ran his horse practically to death. The night Brom killed Morzan, I was there with him. He and I infiltrated the castle together. We killed many soldiers, but Brom went after Morzan alone and I stayed behind to keep the soldiers away. When I was finished with the soldiers, I went to look for Brom again. He was standing over Morzan's dead body. We found Selena shortly after, but she had died just when we started our rampage of the castle. I remained here, anyone who saw me there that night is now dead. My cover remained. Brom ran away after burying his one and only love. I do not know where he went, but in the past two years I have been hearing rumors of a new Rider and an old man traveling together. I assumed it was Brom and that the egg had hatched. When you talked in here, with a hilt like that, a hilt of a Rider's sword, I assumed it was you. I employed you so you would stay and have this conversation. I have developed contacts over the years, and I can get information for you, but why are you here? Alone."

Eragon believed him, there were no gaps in the story and the timeline matched up perfectly. He also explained the mystery of how Brom found out about Selena's weakened condition. But he had more questions.

"How do you know the Ancient Language?"

"Brom taught me a little here and there. Just enough to converse with the elves and other magic users to prove my loyalty."

"I assume you have a different name than the Basher."

"Yes, I do. In fact, the Basher is something made up. There is no story, just speculations of others. My real name is Darius. Darius of Uru'baen."

"I see you already know my name. The reason I am here is to find out the king's plans to attack the Varden. We know of the soldiers to the West, we need to find out of any other surprises he has."

"I can help with that. Do you know the layout of the castle?"

"Yes."

"Good this will be easier then. I will go with you after two days. We will enter the castle by a secret passageway by the underground system. It was built a long time ago when prisoners were often hated. Until their judgment was decided, they were transported underneath ground, away from the public who would throw stones. It will lead us straight to the prisons however. From then we can find our way through the castle."

"Why the wait?"

"You need to be correctly inducted into human life. Gain the trust of a few drunk men and walking in the middle of the night will not seem suspicious. Get yourself more familiar with the language."

"Alright, in two days then."

Eragon turned to leave, but he was stopped again, "Arast, wait."

Eragon turned, a confused look on his face. "I will call you Arast from now on. The less we use your real name, the better. I want you to stay here. It is common in taverns that the employees also live in the same area. I have plenty of rooms for you. It will save you the money and your horse is already in the back here."

Eragon nodded his thanks. "You can stay in the room just across this hallway."

Eragon was about to move away when some unknown force stopped him. He turned again and faced Darius, "No matter what happens Basher, I am glad that I met you. It is good to have a friend so far away from home."

Darius nodded and replied, "Likewise Arast. Get some sleep, we have a busy day tomorrow, it is a weekend after all."

Eragon turned on his heels and left the room. Tired from the day's travel and his busy job, he fell asleep quickly.

Arya had no desire to sleep. She paced around their room – hers and Eragon's. At this very moment, her beloved Rider was somewhere under the king's nose. No one but he knew where he was or what he was doing. She hated the feeling. After Eragon had closed the connection, she felt her heart puncture again. It was amazing the effect he had on her. Her elation when he was by her side and her depression when he was nowhere to be found. Arya pushed the thoughts away. She was a princess, an elf held the in highest regard. A warrior unparalleled by any, a beauty unmatchable except the perfection of nature. There was no reason why she should feel so helpless without a certain man in her life.

She sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the beautiful fairth. She was so engrossed in the poem that she never took a detailed look besides the positions of the two people. Eragon was talented in the arts, there was no doubt. Painting Oromis's and Glaedr's picture to that amount of detail and perfection was no easy task. He had already shown in prowess in poetry with his contribution in the Blood-Oath Celebration. The only other fairth she had seen of his was the one of her. She was angry, not at him, but at herself. She was angry that she had let anyone come that close to capture her essence perfectly. She hated the depiction. It was what she was, everything. Her perfections and her imperfections, her desires and her strengths. It was there, crystal clear for everyone to see. And so she destroyed it, destroying the only clarity she had of herself.

Looking back at her actions, she realized she was wrong. It was a truthful depiction of her, but only in Eragon's eyes. _Even then, was his opinion that important to me, that I believed myself pictured in his eyes as I truly was._ She was right. Arya had fallen in love with him, not overtime as he had with her, but from the moment he took her away from Gilead, she fell for him. The moment he had healed her wounds and conversed with her. She fell in love with his boyish charm and his uncharacteristic strength. He was but a sixteen, maybe seventeen years, but she had already felt safe in his arms. His opinion of her mattered more than her own mother's. She thought back to the first battle they had been in together, the battle of Farthen Dur. She was so hell bent on changing his opinion of her, from an elf battered and weak to one of a strong warrior. She did not want him to think of her as weak or needy. It was the driving force of her anger when he questioned her ability to fight in the war just before the battle. Had it been anyone else or had she not harbored strong feelings for the young man, she would have remained calm. Instead she strove to prove herself to him, even when she never cared to prove herself to her own mother.

That was what had healed her. Eragon's ability to turn her perspective of herself into his perspective of her. His constant attention, praise, and respect helped her overcome her own shortcomings. She turned her attention back to the fairth. She may not have been smiling as such when they were star gazing, but he was able to capture what she felt anyway. Happiness, ecstasy, whatever it could be called. Something more than these insipid words for the elation she felt when she was with Eragon. She placed the fairth on her bedside again, hoped fate would be kind to her love and she fell asleep.

Chapter thirty: A promise worth keeping

Eragon awoke to a woman wailing in the room next to his. He donned his sword and dashed out to see what was wrong. He ran into Darius, consequently running in the same direction. The men gave each other a worrisome look before heading towards the distressful sounds. They opened the door in wonder.

A dismal scene entered his sights. Ardrianna, the red-haired woman from the night before was sitting in a very messy bed, in the center. There were several women comforting her. She was covered in bruises with a bloody and broken nose to accompany it. Darius was immediately at her side. In his most concerning voice he asked what had happened.

He was greeted by another flood of tears. Eragon knew she had been abused somehow, but the extent of what had been done, he knew nothing of. From where she gathered the strength from, Eragon would never know, but she slowly began to speak.

"It was the General Victor. I don't remember much, but he was being his usual forceful self, and then he put something down my throat. I didn't know what it was, but later I was up here, and he was…he was on top of me. His hands were around my neck and his mouth was all over my body, biting and bruising me. I tried to scream at him to get off, but he gagged me and I couldn't make a sound. I started to fight him off, but he punched my face and I fell unconscious." A new wave of tears rocked her body, but Eragon could not contain his anger any longer.

He stalked across the room, murderous eyes gleaming. He looked at her intently and dismissed the other women, leaving only him, Darius, and Ardrianne. He wanted as little listeners as possible.

"Ardrianne, you will not be working tonight. That is not debatable, I am sure the Basher agrees with this."

Eragon looked to the elder man, who only nodded back. Darius was clearly shaken, for a deed of that evil nature to have occurred in his tavern, to one of his bartenders was unacceptable.

"Ardrianne, I will heal your wounds, you will have no trace of that bastard on you. Your memories, however, I can do nothing about. But I will promise you that before tomorrow morning, that worthless excuse for a man will be dead. This is something I intend to keep."

If she was afraid at the menace in his words, she did not show it. She just replied, "Please, Arast. I want him to be pain. No woman should have to go through what I just did." Her eyes held a certain hatred, a defiance of a sorts. She would not break, not after what she was forced to endure. She would turn her anger into pride, and she would stay strong.

Eragon nodded his agreement. "He will die tonight, and you will be free to spit on his spirit. I will not let men like that walk this earth free, no matter who their allegiance lies to."

With that Eragon put Ardrianne to sleep, and said the words to heal her wounds. He made sure that not one bruise or bloodied mark was left. After he was finished, he looked up at Darius. The elder man gasped in surprise. "You look just like him Arast, just like him. The same eyes, the same anger, the same conviction. You are just like him."

Eragon could only infer that he meant Brom, but his anger was far too gone for him to make a coherent thought. The Rider was rash, not stupid, rash. He acted on his emotions, not logic. Logic was only reserved when he had others to think of. But now, with him alone, no ties, no fears, he was rash. He would kill that man, and any man that dared violate another like Victor had. _Victor_ – the name itself raised an intent so murderous he doubted that even Arya would not fear him. Tonight a man would die. Tonight a man would be put through pain, through hell in his own hell. Tonight justice would be served on a silver platter, and Eragon was ready to serve it in blood.

He went back to his room, the other women staring at him in wonder. He took a few moments to calm himself. Anger would be the end of him. He needed to find purpose, not revenge. His purpose was to save Alagaesia, not kill. But if his saving Alagaesia required a kill, then so be it. He let his thoughts flow freely under a guarded mind. Not surprisingly, they trailed back to Arya. His miracle, he meant every word of that poem. A smile touched his lips as he reminisced over her. Her smile, her laughter, her delicate body, her comforting presence. Everything about her captivated him. The way her body glided across the ground, or spun like the wind during battle. The way her eyes shone like gems, lighting up the darkest of places. He remembered Oromis elda's words that losing Selena was just as bad as losing his Saphira for Brom. He was right, if Brom had felt half as much as Eragon felt for Arya, then losing her would be just as painful as losing his dragon. He could not imagine losing either his princess or his dragon. They were both such an essential part of him. He could not separate the feelings. He did not need to. They were his heart and soul, each claiming a part and all of him. He loved them deeply, there were no words to describe how deep his feelings ran. He doubted an ocean could have run deeper, or the distance between the moon and the sun was as great as how much he loved them.

He chuckled to himself. The mere thought of Arya reduced his anger to nothingness. She was a calming presence. His memories of her, everything dealing with Arya calmed him. Gaining clarity, he thought back to what had happened. No doubt he would deal with the repercussions of using magic to heal wounds as extensive as Ardrianne's, but that was a chance he was willing to take. There was no other option. He hoped that the king's magicians would not deem the influx in power great enough to warrant a search. If that was the case, then Eragon would have to leave soon. But he would fulfill his promise before he left. That was one promise worth keeping.

Calm from his thoughts, he got himself up and readied for the day's work. A piece of folded parchment fell from a pocked in his breeches. He picked it up and sat down, unsure of what it would contain. He opened it, and smiled slightly. Fate was kind to him. The picture that Oromis-elda saw fell out. It was because of this picture that his late master had wanted him to continue his journey in drawing and painting. The subject of this drawing was Arya. _Who else?_ he mused. He had drawn Arya leaning against the Menoa Tree, reading a scroll. Her hair was straight and clipped back. She was in comfortable clothing, a bit more feminine then her usual style. It was what he saw during one of his first days in Ellesmera. He brought his attention back at the parchment. It was slightly worn out, no doubt due to the constant riding and traveling. He was grateful that even this far away, he had a token of Arya's.

He folded the drawing back, and secured in the pocket of his breeches once again. He went down the raggedy stairs to the actual tavern and put the chairs down from the table. He heard a creek behind him. Trying to be casual, he turned around and came face to face with Marissa – the blonde woman he observed with Ardrianne when the tavern caught his sight.

She gave him a smile and walked up. "Arast, there is something you should know."

"What would that be Marissa?" Eragon did not want to be cold, but he did not want to warrant any unwanted advances from these women. Granted they were beautiful, but nothing compared to his love, and none could provide the peace or love him back the way Arya could. But he was courteous nonetheless.

"There are dealings under the table here."

"What are you talking about?"

"Drugs, poisons, and potions of all sorts make their way through this bar. We are told by Darius to turn a blind eye. It is how he keeps his contacts. Some of the more deadly ones include Seithr oil, Skilna Bragh, Death's pain, and Shadow walk are bought and sold to the Empire here."

"I know of the first two, but the other I do not know of."

"Then listen. Death's pain is the kind of poison given to the king's most hated men. The pain starts slow, but remains constant. When the person starts getting used to the pain, it gradually increases and increases. The poison's effectiveness rises and falls with the amount of adrenaline released by the poisoned. Once the levels of adrenaline are lower and the person calms, the poison increases its effect. It never stops until all the nerve endings are on edge. The pain does not stop. The drug never kills, but the pain induced is known to have driven men into dying. The pain was so excruciating that they men went into a cardiac arrest."

Eragon shivered at the description, but he could not show his emotions, "And the other drug?"

"Shadow walk is an entirely different one. It creates a euphoric experience, but it is addicting. Those who take it will do whatever another tells them to just to get the drug. It is often how men were interrogated. Drugged so they get addicted to it, and then force them to spill their secrets when the withdrawals starts."

"Why is it called Shadow walk?"

"That I cannot tell you, I have never experienced it and I never want to."

Eragon nodded, "Why are you telling me this Marissa?"

"You will serve justice to one person, and you will to many others. We have heard your promise. These dealers are the reason my husband is dead. He was with the resistance group, but he was discovered by the use of these drugs. I was employed by Darius to keep a close watch. He cannot do anything, but you can."

Eragon nodded, it seems he was gaining more and more responsibilities. He would follow the drugs and the money. He needed to know where they came from. If any of these substances came from across the oceans, then Galbatorix had already begun trading with the West, meaning the armies could already be here, in hiding like a snake waiting for the perfect moment to attack.

Marissa went back up the stairs, the Rider swore he saw a tear fall from her eye, but she made no move to let it fall. Eragon sighed, coming to the capital of evil was not as easy as it should have been. He had a task, find out what he needed to and get out. Now he signed himself for killing another man, not that he did not deserve to die, and tracking a shipment of drugs across the earth. If he was lucky, he would get out without getting himself stuck and anymore promises.

He chided himself. He was the Rider of Vroengard. The last free Rider of Alagaesia. The people placed their trust and hope in him, and he did not reciprocate the appreciation. Instead he-

"It is okay you know."

Eragon eyes snapped up to capture Darius's larger gray ones. He continued, "It is alright that you feel this way. You are the hope, but you are also a person. It is not easy being you and doing the things you do. You have a duty to yourself and a duty to the people. You did not ask for it, so what right do others have to expect it from you? The truth is they do not, but they have gone without hope for so long that even a smidgeon of it will cause them to grab on and never let go. I do not envy you, that is for sure. But do not hesitate to feel overwhelmed or resentful. It is expected. How can you not feel resentful when you kill men to save the rest, only to be attacked by the rest? It is a hard life to live, but do not think that there are only those who would kill you. For everyone that says they hate you, there are ten others who would die for you. Most do understand the sacrifice you make, but everyone respects you for it."

"Basher, you are a respectful man. An honorable one, why did you let drugs be dealt in your tavern?"

"I chose the lesser of two evils. I was either to run a brothel house, which due to recent events it seems my tavern turn into, or a tavern. The brothel house would be self serving, but the tavern not so much. So I consented to have drugs dealt. I gained my contacts that way. Nobody questions me and I am free to do what I want. I have access to information that no one else does."

"And what exactly did you do with that information?"

"I gave it to an elf, he came by occasionally and I gave him what I gathered."

"An elf? What is his name?"

"Name? It was Faolin I believe."

Eragon immediately went on alert. A fear like never before gripped him "How long ago was this?" He hated asking it for he knew he would hate the answer.

"The last time I saw him was about two months ago."

"And how often did he come by?"

"About every two weeks or so."

"And he has not made an appearance since."

"No, I do not know where he is for that matter."

"How long has he been coming to you?"

"A little less than two years."

"Thank you Basher." Eragon pulled his thoughts back in. There was nothing he could do about it now. Faolin, Arya's former mate, was alive as of two months ago. He was considered dead two years ago. Islanzadi would never keep a secret like that from Arya. The Queen actually approved that relationship. It was Arya's mother after all that consented to Faolin accompanying her. Which left two options: Faolin had betrayed the elves and was working with the king, or he was forced to. There was no other way Faolin could have come unharmed from being in Durza's grasp to roam freely. And even if he had escaped, the fact he did not return to Ellesmera or try and contact either Islanzadi or Arya proved his guilt. But now was not the time to consider such speculation.

Darius was under watch. His information gathered went straight to the King in some way. Meaning that the information here was either planted or so true that it was used to instill fear. The facts Darius gathered over the past years were used for manipulation. There was no way these facts could be relied upon now. He looked at Darius, preparing himself for what he was about to do.

"Basher, I appreciate what you have done for me so far. But I cannot stay here any longer. The information you have given me has proved useful, but not hopeful. I can tell you that you are being watched. Be careful in how you tread. If this elf comes back, I strongly suggest that you do not give him anymore information. From my past knowledge, all of which I cannot tell you, I can deduce that this elf works for the king whether he wants to or not."

The elder man looked towards the ground, "Somehow, Arast, somehow I knew it was wrong. Will I see you again?"

"I do not know Basher, fate is an interesting entity. But remember, even the lesser of two evils is still an evil. Sometimes it is better to live a simple life, away from the good in order to keep away from the bad. I will rid you of the drugs today, but should the problem arise, I cannot say whether I will be here to help. Good-bye Basher."

"I will keep that in mind. Good-bye and good luck in your journey. May the stars watch over you and may fate smile fondly down on you."

Eragon nodded his acknowledgement and thanks. He left the old man standing there. He would return, but he would not step in, he would do his deeds outside – unnoticed and untraceable. No witnesses and the worst of punishments. His next task was staying unnoticed until the night fell. He got Snowfire from the stables. The horse immediately greeted him, putting a smile on the Rider's mouth. His companion's affection could always cheer him up.

He walked mundanely outside. The sun was up and so was his hood. He looked like a worn in traveler, nothing warranting any threat. His beard was growing out, he let it over the past few days. It added to his common man appeal. The first of Saphira's allotted time was going to waste. He had to do something with the time he had left. He had woken late because of his late day. So did everyone in the tavern. The late night and late mornings, much to his dismay, were the normal times for them. It went with their jobs. He thought back to Marissa's confession – her husband was working for the Varden. That was nothing alarming, Ajihad had spies everywhere. No doubt he was discovered due to the Twins treachery. Another unsettled score, he would get the Twins for all the pain they had caused. Eragon walked the streets of Uru'baen for longer.

He was wasting time. What was the best place he could get information from? The safest? Markets. Markets were hustling with men and women of all sorts during all times of the day. No doubt some rumors, perhaps more reliable ones would travel through there. He set his sights for the market place. Women paid little attention to the cloaked mass of a man he was. Other men looked at him because of Snowfire's magnificence, but they looked their own way soon enough. Men were known to be jealous of many things, but the reason often revolved around vanity, not the magnificence of a horse. A look of horse had no appeal to any man. Smirking at his comical thoughts, he moved forward. Children did not care to look at him. A good thing, it was usually because the children stared in the Varden, did everyone else realize who he was. If the children did not see anything out of the ordinary, then he would be ordinary.

Eragon caught sight of a certain jeweler's shop. It was not out of interest of buying something, but of the person who came out. A noble no doubt. Very wealthy, had the arrogant streak about him. He walked out of a simple jeweler's shop. The scene did not connect with the observations. The jeweler was either more than he was or was dealing with problems bigger than him.

What was now Arast walked over to the jeweler's casually, as if observing the ornaments in hopes of finding something precious. The jeweler cast a disgusted look in his direction.

"There is no point lusting after what you cannot have."

Eragon almost laughed at his statement, if only he knew the truth and lie behind that statement. But he retained his composure and sent an innocent smile before replying, "I have money good sir. Do not worry about the payment."

Satisfied with his answer, the jeweler left him alone. Eragon looked around some more, making sure he seemed like he was going to buy something, when he really wanted some answers.

"What do you recommend for courting a woman you love? You know more about this than I."

The jeweler laughed, "Courting eh? We do not court around here. Most that buy stuff from here gift it to their mothers or sisters for a birthday. No courting. Gone are the days of chivalry and courting."

Eragon let out a small chuckle in hopes of agreement. He was slightly amused at the statement. He had spent more time courting his love than loving his love.

"That is a shame, good sir, not even the rich buy for their loves."

"The rich do not have loves, they have lovers with whom they do not take the time to squander money on."

"And the man that just left? Surely he was here for something more important. The reason I came here was because that man seemed like he was into the rich taste and I wanted to buy something exquisite for my lady."

If there was a trace of doubt, it was gone with Eragon's answer. The jeweler was most definitely a middleman. He was no mastermind if he did not catch his implications. A smarter man would have caught on Eragon's observations.

"That man was interested in some different pieces. He was looking for a decorative piece of weaponry. A knife of sorts, but jeweled so it was far beyond any practical use."

Eragon nodded, "I see, can I see these knives of sorts."

"Why, of course, but I assure you, they are not of useful quality."

"That is quite alright. I have heard that these are quite popular, so I wanted to see for myself."

"Ah well, then give me a second. I specialize in these knives, and certain other artifacts. Not jewel pieces, but figurines. It is what I am famous for." The shopkeeper's voice faded and moved here and there as he traveled around his store gathering the materials Eragon had wanted to look at. He was not interested in buying materials as much as tracing them. This middleman's specialty, because of its obvious rarity, might yield some answers pertaining to the king's trading partners.

"Here are the daggers sir. Quite a rare type. Like I said all show, but an exclusive piece."

Eragon glanced at the daggers, there truly were quite exquisite. He picked one up, examining it further. It was a unique color, a white ivory handle and a curved blade that resembled the motion of a snake. It was very sharp, and even more richly decorated. It was embedded with diamonds and other rare gems Eragon had only heard of. He put the dagger down and picked up another, examining it just as closely.

The shopkeeper seemed to know he was not at all interested in the designs. Not wanting to miss a sale, he started his selling techniques again.

"These are the more common styles. But there are others, a much rarer piece. Only sold by a few traders."

Eragon mocked his ears perking up. He gestured with his hand to show him the different styles. The shopkeeper took a key from around his neck and opened a chest to his back. He pulled out a rolled up bag and gently undid the bindings. The Rider watched closely as the shopkeeper unfolded the package to reveal about five different styles of daggers.

"Now sir, these are of a different caliber. These are the original styles, the first ones to come across the seas."

The young Rider's eyes shot open, _across the seas._ He prayed to fate his suspicions would not be confirmed.

He prodded, "What do you mean from across the seas?"

"Well good sir, this is Empire land specialty. The opposition owned lands can never get access to these goods. They are all in the black market. Technically, the commoners were never supposed to get their hands on these kind of goods. The sellers of these knives are traders from the lands to the West. The trading between the lands has already started."

_Dammit, _Eragon swore under his breath. Treaties had already been made, they could be closer than expected. The battle was soon to commence, and he had to be back at exactly the scheduled time or the Varden would surely lose the war. Eragon looked back at the daggers – one particularly caught his attention. It was a golden hilt, with a silver chain that ran from the bottom of the hilt to the brim of the joining of the blade and handle. It was studded with emeralds and its blade was sharply curved and cut to a fine point. It was a beautiful piece of weaponry. The shopkeeper must have noticed Eragon staring at the dagger.

"The green and gold one then. I have to say, you have an eye for pieces of beauty. If you take this, then I can throw in a different figurine of sorts."

Eragon chuckled, "And it will not be terribly overpriced."

"You forget sir, I am not even supposed to have these. Believe me I want to get rid of them."

"Then I will take you offer. How much for the dagger?"

"Twelve gold coins, and I will give you one of these."

The shopkeeper opened a different box that he pulled down. It was covered in a nice velvet with six different compartments. In each was a flower carved out of a gem, there was one of pearl, sapphire, emerald, topaz, onyx, and amethyst.

"I'll take the purple one." Eragon replied with hesitation. It reminded him of Arya's favorite color, the deep purple of the Black Morning Glory. The flower Faolin had made her. He looked down, now was not the time to be thinking of these things. He half wondered whether he should choose a different color, but it was her favorite and any other color would not be to her liking as much as that one. The shopkeeper nodded and packed his items carefully away.

Eragon wordlessly handed over the coins and decided to push his luck.

"The daggers then, how did you get your hands on them? Considering well, you are not exactly supposed to have them."

"That, well I suppose it cannot hurt to tell you. After all, if I get caught, you go down with me." The man chuckled, "General Victor and General Ermien. They were involved with the trading with the men from the West."

"Ah, and those are the only two able to deal with the traders."

"Well, it seems that those are the only two generals that the traders are interested in working with."

"Interesting, well I better be off then. Thank you for your time."

"Nonsense, thank you for your business." The shopkeeper waved him off. Eragon was glad of it. No more unnecessary talk required. No fumbling trying to make a contact. He got his information and now he had a link – and it was close by.

Eragon packed the dagger and the flower in the Snowfire's saddle pouch. It was safest there, he contended. After herds of information thrown at him, Eragon finally sat down to think over what he had learned that day.

Victor was a rapist – he would die for that. There were drugs being dealt. Two were those he knew and the other two, he had no idea where they came from. However, from the information given to him by the shopkeeper. The dealers seemed to be Victor and Ermien, the two generals dealing with the traders from the West. They had a hand in selling the daggers and no doubt the new drugs they have been selling came from the same area. If the king did not warrant any trading yet, then he did not want a paper trail or the Empire's economy to become dependent on another entity when the Varden was still at large. Meaning, the traders who want to make money, would only deal with the corrupt generals so their market would increase. If Victor and Ermien died, then there would be no connection and perhaps the West traders would lose a reason to trade and Galbatorix would lose an ally.

Which left the matter of Faolin. He was alive as of two months ago. He had not shown up since, meaning something or the other happened to him. But he did not die two years ago as Arya believed him to be. There were only two possible options for him. Arya was captured and taken to Gilead. Faolin and perhaps Glenwing could have been captured and taken to Uru'baen. The times match up. It was two years since Saphira hatched for Eragon. During that time Faolin must have come to the capital and then what? Darius was not working for the Varden, that was for sure. He had no contacts left and Eragon would have known. Darius believed himself to be working for the Varden, so he no doubt he gave information about the generals to Faolin, who could only be working for Islanzadi or Galbatorix. Islanzadi was unlikely, she would keep information like that, but not when Arya informed her that they had mated. Galbatorix was the only reasonable choice. But why would the king send a spy to his own men?

Then it clicked, Galbatorix did not trust anyone, let alone his men. He wanted to see what his men were doing behind his back. No, that was not it. Marissa said her husband was discovered and tortured by Death's pain – the new drug. Meaning the Empire had it, meaning Galbatorix had it, meaning he knew of everything that was going on. So why send Faolin to Darius for information?

Something did not add up, Darius was hiding something from him. Why was the tavern only open to richer of men? What was Darius hiding from curious drunk men? Why did all those who worked there, be forced to stay there? Something was definitely wrong with the picture. He would have to see Darius again, but not now. In the middle of the night, when the minds of men created monsters out of mere shadows.

Eragon lay by a fountain in the middle of a garden. He smiled, it reminded him of elven architecture. It made sense, Uru'baen was the capital of elves before the Fall. The fountain and the garden must be of the few things of the elves that stood the test of time in the lost city. He looked around the gardens, they were strangely familiar, yet not so. They were similar to the gardens at Tialdari Hall, Arya's gardens – her favorite place. No wonder those gardens were built in similar fashion, they were made to resemble one another. One lost elven city provided the basis for the next. Eragon smiled again, they were truly beautiful. But they were missing the most important flower, the Black Morning Glory. Eragon wanted to keep it that way. There would be a time when the gardens could flow with his love's favorite flower, but not now. Not when the taint of evil stained her hailing place.

Eragon put off his next thought process, he never wanted to think of something like this. Faolin was alive, Arya's first love was alive. He knew Arya loved him and he loved her. But Arya had a heart of gold, it would tear her apart. Her loyalty amazed him and she would be devastated if she found out that Faolin was alive and she was mated with…well him. Eragon did now know what do to. But he would not lie to her. This was her decision to make, to be with him or not. He would tell her, no matter how much pain it caused her and no matter how much pain it would cause him. A tear leaked out of his eye. He wiped it away determinedly. Now was not the time for weakness, he made his decision and he would stick with it. If he found him worthy, he would save the elf, if not, he would deal with the situation as he saw fit.

Eragon looked up, night had fallen. It was time for the Rider to take over, it was time for justice to bloody the streets again.

Chapter Thirty one: Decisions made, decisions questioned

Like a shadow in the night, Eragon stalked his prey across the streets. General Victor, followed closely by General Ermien made their way to the back of Darius's tavern. Some other characters made an appearance. They were dark-skinned, like Nasuada, but far more brazen. An ugly color, it was a harsh brown, nothing like the smooth, mocha like skin of Nasuada's. This color glowed black in the light. The traders handed over a pouch and the generals gave their bag of gold coins. When they were safely away, Eragon approached.

The generals turned to face him, but they were too late. There were no witnesses. Eragon immobilized Ermien first. Then he turned his attention to Victor. He brutally broke his barriers, reducing him to nothing more than a common rat. Eragon flipped through the memories, looking for what mattered. He purposely caused as much pain as possible, but he made sure the general did not utter a word. He felt murderous, and he showed it. His memories were of those in the dungeons, he saw a battered male elf. The body of his dead friend lying next to him. He cried out in anguish as the drug was put into his system. It was Shadow's walk. Eragon saw the general's memories of the elf being addicted, succumbing to the euphoria till he was begging the others to give him more of the drug. The memories stopped. Eragon recognized the elf as Faolin. His anger renewed from his horror. Eragon stripped the general from the possession of his newly gotten goods and found Death's pain. He ruthlessly held open the pathetic man's mouth and poured the hot liquid down. The Rider induced a faster heart beat and watched as the man writhed in pain, unable to voice his anguish. He finally stopped flailing around, a look of fear and torture on his face.

Eragon turned towards the other general. Breaking through his weak barriers, Eragon looked for other memories of Faolin. They were of a different setting. He saw Faolin under the influence of the drugs, happy, sated, fulfilled. He was content. But his mood began to slowly change. Faolin seemed disgusted with himself. Eragon watched through Ermien's eyes when Faolin was charged to kill Darius. Faolin had a look of horror in his features. The elf somehow found the strength to escape the soldiers grasp and hurled his naked body out of the ramparts falling to his death. He watched as Faolin broke every bone in his body, losing his life. He died a hero, he died an honorable elf. A true warrior. Eragon said a silent prayer to rest his soul. And then he turned to look at the general's eyes. They were filled with fear.

"No," Eragon muttered menacingly. "No, this fear in your eyes is not enough. I want more."

He let the general fall to the ground and drew Brisingr. The blue blade slowly came to flames, illuminating his face. Eragon looked like a devil. Hatred, malice etched on his face. He brought his flaming sword down on the general's body. He sliced, deep enough to inflict pain, but not kill him. Eragon must have sliced the body at least twenty times before the life left the general's eyes. His deed done, his promise fulfilled, Eragon took the bag of drugs and left to see Darius. That man had some unanswered questions.

Using his elven abilities, Eragon climbed the windows of the tavern, careful to stay in the shadows. He entered the room of Darius's and opted to wait for him.

Arya was growing accustomed to feeling alone without Eragon. She did not like the feeling, and neither did it lessen. It was simple easier to handle. She never realized how much others cared for Eragon. Angela, his people from Carvahall, and even his foster brother's in his dwarven clan had all spent some time with Arya, citing the reasons that since Eragon was such an important member of their family, that she, being his equivalent, also join their circle. She envied Eragon for his family, he had many that still loved him. But she had him, and because she had him, she had everyone else as well. Even dwarves known to hate elves had put a smile on and laughed with her as one of them. She discovered a side to the races that she considered herself unable to witness, let alone be a part of before.

Eragon had changed that.

It was two days since Eragon left. Six more days until Eragon was back safely in her arms. Six more long days. Arya left to see the elven general. The armies that departed from Ellesmera were scheduled to arrive any day now. And she had to ensure they were properly taken care of and transported properly as well. There was still much work to be done.

Eragon waited for two hours in the dark, waiting for Darius to walk through the door. He felt dirty after what he had done, but they deserved to die. Raping Ardrianne like that, dealing such harmful drugs, it was a crime against all others. It was these drugs responsible for the deaths and torture of so many. Eragon felt no guilt, just dirty, as if he had to clean himself of his deeds. He looked down at the bag he had taken. It was filled with the poisons and drugs. He would take them back to the Varden and hopefully an anecdote could be created with the information.

The Rider looked away from the bag. Now he had no idea what to do. Faolin was dead. If he let Arya continue thinking that Faolin was dead, then there would be no need to unnecessarily open up raw wounds, but he could not do that. Arya deserved to know, and he would tell her. Even if the price was their relationship.

_Creak…Creak_

Eragon was brought out of his thoughts at the sound of Darius's footsteps. Eragon prepared himself. He silently padded towards the door, ensuring Darius would not know of his presence. The door slowly opened and Darius walked through. He lighted a candle opposite Eragon. The elder man closed the door once the candle was lit. Eragon was still covered in the shadows. He brought Brisingr from its sheath and carefully placed the cool metal around the man's neck, silencing his alarm.

"Darius, it is I and I have some questions for you. I am sure you would figure out that you cannot keep a Rider from the truth. The generals are dead. The drugs are confiscated, and they will not come near this tavern again. I discovered your elf friend is dead as well, now tell me what information did you give the elf when he was here."

When the man made no motion to answer, Eragon drew blood. That got him speaking.

"Wait, Argetlam, I will tell you. It was not what I gave him, but of what we shared. I gave him useless information on purpose and he would feed it to the king. Galbatorix did not realize that it was Faolin that was feeding information to me. I was building a map of the king's castle, a layout of where the important documents are held. I wanted to steal the plans and get them to the Varden. That is truth. But it was never completed. The last time Faolin was supposed to come, he did not. And I did not see him since. It was not finished."

"I can finish the gaps. Faolin was ordered to kill you because of your useless information. Galbatorix wanted information pertaining to the last Riders, the rumors of the streets. And you never gave him that. Not wanting you dead, the elf flung himself off the castle ramparts and hurtled to his death."

"Oh gods," Darius went white with information. His face became cold and Eragon let him go. Darius fell to the floor. "Oh gods, what have I done? What am I responsible for?"

Eragon pitied the man. "He died protecting you Darius. It is time you left being the Basher and become the soldier you were. The past is dead, we live for the future. Change yours. Live for the memories of those you killed and those who died fighting with you. Change for the memories of those who died and killed for you. You are an honorable man, do not live in the deaths of others waiting for glory to come to you. Find your own glory, find your own reason to fight."

Eragon left as deftly as he came. The elder man would have a lot to think of and all of it would be good for the man. He was an honorable one, just lost in the how. The Rider secured the package of drugs onto Snowfire and mounted him. He had three more days in the city before he was scheduled to be back. He looked to see how much time he had left. It was about eleven thirty – he had seven hours until the sun would begin to climb the sky and seven hours to get in and out of the castle with the information he sought.

The Rider donned his sword and a black midnight cloak again. He put his hood up and made his way to the castle walls. He tethered Snowfire to a tree closeby before walking close to the walls to avoid unwanted eyes. He overheard some night guards; he said the spell to put them to sleep. It was a light sleep, so any higher officer would be able to wake them up, no suspicions aroused.

Slipping past the cumbersome bodies of the soldiers, Eragon entered the castle. It was surprisingly quiet. Too quiet. He recognized where he was from his mother's memories. He was in a hallway parallel to the Grand Hall where Galbatorix often entertained. The path of servants, perfect for staying hidden. He was careful not be followed. Eragon padded through what seemed like miles and miles of endless corridors and hallways. His mother's memories were the only thing keeping him from getting lost.

Then he came upon what he was looking for. The room of records. He heard faint voices, none of which commanded the authority that the king's did. They were voices of a scholar and a soldier reading off the materials. Eragon moved swiftly in, killing the soldier in a swift motion and turning his attention to the scholar. The blue of his sword no doubt silencing the old man.

"I need information scribe."

"Yes, y-yes w-what-t do-o you n-ne-eed?" The stammering made Eragon smirk. Fear was the most efficient way of getting others to do what he wanted, especially the enemy. Eragon asked for the records for the trading and treaties in the past year. The scribe, even in his scattered state, found the records for him.

The Rider read over the information: talk of a treaty, confirmation of it, numbers of the armies, close to what Murtagh told him, and trade dealings. Nothing of another alliance or another land entering into the war for Alagaesia. Eragon took a deep breath of relief. He had found what he was looking for and the information had been the brightest part of his journey. He folded the papers into his cloak, making sure they would not fall and turned to look at the scribe.

"Is there anything else you needed to show me?" Eragon whipped threateningly at the scribe. He shook his head, fidgeting with his hands. Eragon turned away momentarily and the scribe attacked him. No match for his superior speed and strength, the scribe fell forward and Eragon took his head off with a clean stroke. The decapitated body fell to the ground with a thud. When he was satisfied no one was there to reports his invasion, Eragon looked around the room once more. The last egg and the eldunari were somewhere in this castle. _If only he could find it. _No, he would stick with the mission. Hours had passed since he entered the castle and exiting would be just as challenging. He needed to be out of the city as soon as possible. The deaths of the generals could be traced to him and the less others knew that he can use magic, the better.

Eragon broke into a silent jog in the castle halls. He moved much more quickly, familiar with the pathways and the footing patterns. He jumped through the low window in an abandoned servant's room that he had entered in through. Observing his surroundings, he discovered that no soldiers had discovered his presence. In an attempt to avoid the guards at top, Eragon said the spell to turn him invisible and walked on the fields and jumped over the fence. He grasped hold of Snowfire's reins and galloped away, grateful to be away from the wretched place. With his fear subsided and his strength renewed, he commanded Snowfire to jump over the lowest part of the fence and head straight for the Varden.

Traveling at night was dangerous, but Eragon and Snowfire were both eager to be away. The horse had his strength renewed from two days' rest and was more than willing to cover the large distance. If they continued their grueling pace without a break, then they would reach the Varden by one in the afternoon of the next day. Four days ahead of schedule. Eragon was proud that he had completed a task so quickly, but he knew that without Darius or Marissa, his searches would have been much longer and much more dangerous. He silently thanked them, but turned his attentions to getting back to Saphira and Arya as soon as possible.

She was being ridiculous. Eragon was not coming back anytime soon, but she could not help but feel his presence grow stronger and stronger. She was ridiculous, that was the only logical conclusion. He was still in the capital, still in danger.

Hours passed in the night and Eragon could feel Snowfire's weariness. The white horse had not slowed from a sprint since they had left the capital. Pouring energy into the horse's tired body, Eragon replenished Snowfire's diminished strength. Grateful for the energy, the horse snorted and continued to push at the same rapid pace. This time, the sun was rising and it lighted the path for him. It was as if Eragon was following the path of light and bringing light to his surroundings and for once, he could not find the opposite side to it. With a smile on his face and thoughts of his love, he continued to press forward.


	7. Chapter 32 Reconciliation

Arya awoke early the next morning, she could not sleep no matter how badly she tried. She kept tossing and turning and she finally closed her eyes in a fitful dream state. The sun was rising, lighting up the world just as Eragon lit up her world. She smiled at the thought before leaving the bed and cleaning herself for another mundane day of work. They had six more days until the scheduled time of the arrival of the West.

Arya skipped breakfast. She was in no mood to eat. It was getting close to a midday meal, but she had not found her appetite. She nibbled on a few steamed vegetables, calling it a meal. If the others were worried for her eating habits, they did not show it. Elves were famous for that. Control and sometimes she felt suffocated by it. She needed Eragon for that, that release of emotions she kept bottled away for so long. The sun was at its strongest, meaning midday. She looked towards the fields and waited for the day she would see Eragon riding over those hills, riding back to her.

The princess looked away and went to join Saphira on a flight. It was common for them to fly together now, enjoying each other's presence. They were both grateful that someone felt the same way about Eragon's absence.

Snowfire had crossed leagues now, nonstop. They were nearing the Varden, about a half an hour from the area. Just like in his return from the land of the Grey Folk, he scanned the area for Saphira and Arya. They were not in the Varden boundaries, something he was grateful for. He wanted to see them first and not be bombarded by questions from his leader and the other politicians and generals.

Eragon turned Snowfire to the direction of the small lake on the edge of the Feinster stronghold. He arrived shortly after, he saw Arya and Saphira lying on the ground staring at the water. Their minds were closed off to everyone. Eragon dismounted, purposely making noise. Arya whirled her head around, but she was not fast enough. Saphira had already bellowed her happiness at seeing Eragon there again. The sound of his laughter and happiness flowed over Arya's ears like water over rocks. Eragon threw his arms around Saphira's neck and kissed her brow.

_I missed you Saphira. _

_And I you little one. I am glad you are back, earlier than expected just like I wanted you to be. _

Eragon send waves of love and affection, then turned his head towards Arya. She had tears flowing down her face, her hair was slightly disheveled and her eyes a striking emerald of disbelief. He had never seen anything more beautiful. Unable to contain his desire any longer, he walked over and captured his elf's lips. It felt like thousands of years since he felt her lips on his. He kissed her with as much passion as he could muster after his long journey. His hands ran up and down her body, caressing and stroking every inch of her trying to make himself believe that she was really in front of him and not an image of his imagination.

Arya was no less wanting. Her hands traveled up and down his muscular arms and back, finally settling in his hair and pulled his head closer to hers. Her tongue slipped into his all too willing mouth. She scrounged ever inch of his mouth, exploring the intricate dips and crevices of him. She finally pulled away, her only motivation being need of oxygen. Eragon stayed connected to her lips, kissing her lightly, smiling against her own swollen ones.

"I missed you so much Arya. Iet Drottningu, I do not think I could survive another separation from you or Saphira."

"Then do not, I am not a fan for your disappearances. Never again will you leave alone."

"That I promise."

Eragon buried his head in the crook of her neck. His arms wrapped themselves around her, two steel bands refusing to move from their position, locking their bodies together. Eragon felt Saphira's wing encase them both, _Oh little ones, it has been a long time since we have all felt happy._

Saphira held them both; the great dragon seemed to know that without her support, both the Rider and elf would have fallen to the ground long ago.

Arya spoke first, gently pulling her Rider's weary head from his resting place, "Eragon, we must go see Nasuada. No one expected you to be here within four days, why have you come early?"

_Little one, did you find what you were looking for? Or did you need to leave the capital? _

"I found what I was looking for, and perhaps found out more than I ever wanted to know." Eragon looked away unsurely. "But now is not the time to tell you of those details, I will tell you later. The important thing is that I had help from an unlikely source and because of the leads he had given me, I was able to complete the task much quicker than usual."

"Another source? Could he be trusted?"

"Yes, he could, he knew who I was, even when I went through great lengths to disguise myself."

Eragon looked back into Arya's emerald eyes. He would have to tell her tonight, but not now. He would tell her after he told Nasuada the important things, after Arya grew accustomed to his being alive and with her. Eragon called Snowfire to him and the four consented to walk the way back, clearly not wanting to abandon Snowfire for flying on Saphira. After securing Snowfire in the stables, and greeting a few others on the way there, Eragon made his way back to Nasuada's tent.

He was grateful that only a handful of people knew he left – he could not stand faces he did not know congratulate him or bow or whatever people could do to prostrate themselves in front of him. He liked being left alone with the people he loved.

Arya was surprised that Eragon had arrived so quickly, not that she was complaining. But she had neither the time nor the want to tell Eragon the truth behind Nasuada and Murtagh. It would pain him beyond all else so far. She had no idea how she would approach even starting a conversation with that information as an end result. She would tell him, maybe not as eloquently as she would have hoped, but she would tell him. Keeping a secret would be far more unbearable than telling the truth, no matter how much it hurt. But for now, Arya was content to be nestled safely in his loving mind and protected in his strong arms.

Nasuada was in the courtyard, there was another war council. Arya was exempt from as she was in charge of taking care of the new soldiers that would arrive for the Battle of the Sea. She had no reason to complain. It was not like she was an incredibly important part of that group. Arya went more out of courtesy than necessity. Hand in hand, Eragon and Arya headed towards the courtyard. The familiar staring of men, women, and children alike started again. But none of the men had dared look at her lustfully.

_Who looks at you lustfully?_

Arya winced, she had completely forgotten that Eragon was still in her mind. It was such a natural state for her that she adapted quickly.

_No one and everyone. Do not worry about such things Eragon. _

'_No one and everyone' What an elflike answer. _

Eragon pretended to wince as she playfully punched his arm. He let the amusement show on his features.

_Who looks at you lustfully, Arya?_

_No one now, but before we were together, without you by my side, the men always stared at me perversely. When you were with me, they looked away or controlled their desire. Now that we are together, it seems to have completely stopped, except for the occasional glare here and there. It does not bother me much anymore. _

_Have any of the men actually approached you? _

_No, I made sure I was never in such a position. _

_Is there anything I can do? _

_Eragon, you have done enough already. They do not stare anymore, rather at the two of us. _

_That reminds me. _

Eragon turned to the first shiny surface he could find – a barrel of water with a reflective surface. He rearranged his face to its true nature. Some semi-elf, semi-human concoction. Smiling at getting his original face back, he turned back to Arya. He curved his arm around her waist and they both walked towards the courtyard once again.

Arya was surprised at him. She expected him to throw a fit, demanding he know of who would stare at her, citing reasons that he wanted to protect her. But it was not the case. Instead, he asked if could do anything, respecting her independence and her own power. He did not think of her as a weak woman needing to be protected. Somehow that said more of her worth than thousands of praises from the best of scholars.

Knowing what she was thinking, Eragon sent a wave of love. He could not imagine thinking of Arya as anything less than the strong, independent woman she was. She was a princess after all, far stronger than he could ever hope to be. They had made it to the courtyards. Their entrance brought everyone's attention towards them.

Nasuada was the first to greet them. She swiftly walked up and gave Eragon a hug. Arya wondered how she was able to love the man who had been responsible for so much sadness in her life.

_What are you talking about Arya? What sadness have I caused Nasuada? _

Arya froze. Her stupidity was getting the better of her. She looked up to see Eragon's fearful eyes, imploring and demanding. He could not know, not yet. Not when his information was so important. She chided herself for not being careful. How could she have forgotten, twice, that Eragon was an everlasting presence in her mind? She wanted it no other way.

_I will tell you later Eragon, now is not the time. _

_And I will hold you to that. _

Arya could not exactly place Eragon's tone, but his underlying emotion that filled his mind was fear at causing someone close to him pain. Confusion masked it there to, he tried to place how he could have caused Nasuada pain, but he pushed his thoughts out of the way and replaced his impenetrable mask.

"Shadeslayer, it is good to have you back ahead of schedule, but we must know the nature of your mission. Was it successful?"

"Very much so, my liege. If I may, can I reveal what I have discovered?"

"Of course Shadeslayer, we are all eager to hear."

"First and most importantly, there is no other alliance that Galbatorix has. Only those to the West. However, we have misjudged the extent of their relationship. The Empire and the others have already begun trading with each other. The nature of the items varies, some are weaponry, but the ones important to us are the following drugs and poisons that the traders from the West have brought. The first is called Death's pain here in Alagaesia. It is a poison that causes pain inversely proportional with the amount of adrenaline coursing the infected's body. The second is a drug called Shadow's walk. It is a highly addictive substance used for interrogation. The prisoner is put on this drug and quickly addicted to it. The body craves it so much that the withdrawals from become unbearable. Then as a reward for answering questions or completing a task, the prisoner is given a dose of the drug, keeping the craving away. Both these drugs are already in effect. The contacts of the traders were two generals; both are now…unable to continue trading to say the least. I deemed that if the contact was lost, perhaps the alliance would be lost. But do not count on it. Galbatorix no doubt will be able to rekindle a treaty."

"And how were you able to complete the mission in half the allotted time?"

"I was employed by a man that goes by the Basher. He was an acquaintance of Brom's from nineteen years ago. I worked with him for a night at a tavern in an attempt to follow the two generals I mentioned earlier. He recognized the hilt of my sword to be a Rider's hilt and deduced from that who I was. He was the one who told me of the happenings in the castle. Even then I was not scheduled to finish the quest earlier. It was the next morning that I discovered that the Basher had kept his contacts from consenting for these drug deals in his tavern. I followed the money from then, and I discovered the traders were in fact those from the West. That same night, because of the information I had gathered over the past days, I was able to enter the castle unnoticed, find my way around, and get hold of some papers that had been long forgotten. I found the treaty and a more exact view of what kind of soldiers or creatures we would be dealing with."

"This is indeed good news. Let me rid you of the papers and I will send it to the scholars who can of it the most. We have the gist of what he is saying and that will be sufficient for the moment. The details of the treaty can be helpful, but we best make sure that we know them first."

Eragon nodded and handed the papers over. He had no use of them, and he did not want to think about what he had done to obtain them. He really did not want to kill the scribe, but attacking Eragon left the Rider no choice. If he left him alive, Galbatorix would know that Eragon had entered the capital and would have chased him straight to the Varden. His other kills could have been traced as well, both the generals and then Darius and his employees would be in danger as well. It was for the best, but that knowledge did not put his conscience at rest.

He had other things on his mind as well. First and foremost being what Arya had thought of Nasuada. Eragon conversed with Saphira on the matter, but the dragon could be quite stubborn.

_Saphira, do you know of what Arya had thought about? _

_Yes, little one. _

…_well? _

_Those words are not those you should hear from me. She would be much more apt than I to tell you the truth behind her feelings. _

_Saphira…_

_Eragon, I will not tell you. Do not try and make me. It is the same the other way as well. I am not going to tell Arya the truth behind Faolin's death. _

_How did you know? I worked hard to keep it away from my thoughts. _

_I have noticed this as well and I spoke to Glaedr-elda about it. He said that the bond between us is particularly strong. Without meaning to, we already extend our consciences and memories to each other. If you look carefully, you will know that I flew with Arya, and of the situations of the soldiers who are coming soon. You have never been informed, yet you knew. Just like you may have never outright told me, but I have your memories of it. That being said, we are an extension of each other. You and Arya share a different bond. Your minds are linked for the comfort of each other's presence. Ours are linked because we are one. It a conscious versus a subconscious decision. _

_That is indeed clarifying. How is Glaedr-elda doing?_

_He would like to speak with you tomorrow about the details of your visit. I, for a fact, know that the entire trip was not all technical. _

_Have you any ideas on how to tell Arya? _

_No, and I am sure that she is just as badly out of ideas on how to tell you. _

_Then we should go somewhere familiar and say it. _

_A good idea, good luck with that. I need to talk to Glaedr-elda about another topic. I shall give you the details later. Little one, I am glad you are back. _

_I am too Saphira, I am too. _

Eragon watched as Saphira beat her wings and rose majestically over the courtyard. The Rider did not think there was anything as beautiful of a flight of a dragon, or the regality Saphira displayed when she reduced all the others to specks when she flew higher and higher. He took his eyes off of her and looked towards his other regal love. Arya smiled at him and took his hand, lacing her fingers with his.

Nasuada broke the silence produced by Saphira's magnificent departure. "Is there any other questions we have for the Shadeslayer?"

No one spoke, satisfied with the results of his mission.

"Great, I was hoping as such. Now is there any new progress that Arya Shadeslayer has not been informed of?"

Again, silence.

Nasuada smiled, "Perfect, then Arya Shadeslayer can give those details to Eragon, ensuring we do not waste time going over the details for a second time. And then we can move towards other pressing matters."

She paused, looking at Eragon and Arya briefly. She gave a pained smile, a knowing smile, before continuing. "Eragon, I am sure you are tired from your ordeal and since it is not required that you stay for these particular discussions, you may leave. Arya, please fill him in on the progress of the Battle of the Sea. Thank you."

Eragon bowed to his liege lord and still locked with Arya's hand, he made off to their room. He was indeed tired, but dirty as well. He needed a bath. They walked in silence, both trying to escape the conversation that was about to come. Reaching the door, Eragon placed a kiss on Arya's forehead, partly in reassurance, for him or for her he did not know. He opened the door and relaxed at the sight of his familiar home. Arya seemed to know his relief at being back for she affectionately ran her hand over his arm.

He looked into her eyes, losing himself again. It seemed so long ago that he was leagues away in the most danger he had ever been in. He could barely believe he was back, safe in the arms of the one he loved and loved him so much.

"Iet Drottningu, I will take a bath. I will be back soon."

Arya smiled and nodded. Releasing her from his gaze, Eragon walked over and picked a comfortable tunic and felt pants. He pulled the purple one, the one Arya had chosen for him. The color was the exact tint of her favorite flower, and the amethyst flower he had bought for her, along with the dagger. He looked back at his pack. He still had the poisons on him. He would give them to Angela, it was here specialty after all. The dagger and the flower gem he would give to his princess later on.

Eragon heated the water and stepped in, grateful for massage it gave on his aching muscles. He heard noises of Arya rummaging outside the bathroom. Even her small noises were captivating. He listened as she opened and closed the door, the only sounds truly discernable to other humans. He heard her set the table, pour some drink and finally pull out a chair and sit down. A tear leaked from his eye. He would have to tell her the one thing he wished he never had to talk about ever again. Why was life never simple? Why did Eragon have to be so curious that his ignorance was being killed?

_Whosever words were that ignorance is bliss is correct._ He thought grimly. He heard Arya shifting uneasily outside as well. Whatever she had to tell him must not be that stellar of news either. He just wished it would not be as bad as what he was about to tell her. The Rider washed the grim from his body washed his hair. He lifted his tired body and drained the water out. Picking up his towel, he dried himself and got most of the water out of his hair, leaving only slight moisture clasping his locks of hair together. He pulled on his felt pants and pulled the tunic over his head. Perfect fit, Arya knew him in and out that was certain. He looked at his appearance and prepared himself for the conversation.

Arya watched the door as it creaked open. Eragon was wearing her favorite color, the tunic she had bought for him. She smiled, he wore the color better than her. Turning her gaze to his eyes, her smile quickly faded. His eyes were…disturbed to say the least. She wondered how she would start the conversation, but she did not have to.

"Arya, we should eat first. I am starving and you do not look like you have eaten at all this day either."

_How right he is_,Arya mused. She nodded and Eragon sat down next to her. He put food on his plate – nothing extremely special. Just some pasta and a tomato based sauce. It was vegetarian. Arya, at first, was not keen on it, but Eragon had known some spices and seasonings that gave the sauce a much better flavor. The elf looked back at her mate, a tear leaking from her eye. He noticed her distress immediately.

Suddenly it did not matter that they would be hurt by each other's words. Eragon could not bear her tears. He pulled her chair so it faced his. Tears were flowing more freely now. Eragon held her face firmly, wiping her tears away, kissing them away.

"Ssh, Arya. I know, I know that you have something to tell me and I will not like it. I have dismal news for you as well. But we will get through this. Please stop crying. I may be able to fell a thousand soldiers, but I cannot counter your tears. I am helpless with your distress as my foe."

Eragon brought her face to his heart. He held the side of her face to his chest. His other arm held her shaking body. Unable to stand the distance much longer, Eragon lifted Arya from her position and moved her to his lap. His right hand was holding her to his chest and his left prevented her from falling backwards. He rubbed his left arm soothingly over his back.

This was not good, Eragon had not even told her what he wanted to, and she had already begun crying. The tears eventually stopped, but Arya made no effort to move from her position. Eragon smiled at her, knowing she did not want to leave the comfort of his arms. It had been too long since he had been in their room, sharing their dinner. She knew the moment would be ruined, but she held on to it as long as she could. Eragon looked at her, he had never taken his gaze off of her. He placed a kiss on top of her head and moved his right hand back to their meal. Eragon lifted a fork with pasta and held it out to her.

"I am not letting you go, and you are not going to not eat."

Arya chuckled, of course he would use a tad bit of humor to lighten the situation. She gratefully ate what Eragon fed her. He occasionally took a bite himself, and when the food was finally done, Eragon lifted her and placed her on the bed. She never knew when she became so comfortable with Eragon holding her, carrying her, or feeding her. She was always the independent one, yet here she was, allowing herself to be pampered by her mate. She pulled him down for a leisure kiss before releasing him.

"Arya, I have some grim news for you."

"As well as I."

"You tell me first."

"Very well, but brace yourself." Eragon nodded and looked back into her mesmerizing eyes.

"Nasauda and Murtagh were in love. They knew that you would eventually need to kill Murtagh, so they kept it a secret from you. Nasuada says that she knows that she will eventually die, perhaps in the coming year. She does not blame you for what you have to do. She is just waiting to meet him again in their afterlife. There was nothing you could do."

Eragon closed his eyes. That information he was not expecting. He let a tear slip from his eyes. He knew he had no choice, he did not need to reminisce. He was sorry for what he had to do, and that was all he could do now.

"I really wish I had known Arya. Known before I took his life."

"There was nothing you could do." Arya lifted her hand and cupped his cheek. Eragon lifted a warm hand and covered it. He took a moment to regain his composure and looked back at Arya once again.

"Iet Drottningu, there is no easy way to say this. So I will not beat around the bush. The day you were captured by Durza is not the day Faolin or Glenwing died. They were taken to Uru'baen where they Glenwing was given Death's pain and Faolin Shadow's walk. Faolin was charged with the task of gathering information for Darius, otherwise known as the Basher. When Darius did not give any useful information, Faolin was given the task to kill him. Instead of completing the task, Faolin broke free of his guards and jumped off the castle tower. He fell to his death. Glenwing had already died by then. Arya, this occurred two months ago."

Arya's face remained blank. She looked away from him, back at him, as if trying to discern if it was a joke. When the look in his eyes would not budge. When there was no hint of a smile, she cracked. With her renowned swiftness, she used for one thing that she never thought she would use it for – running. Arya bolted out the door, flinging herself up from her sitting position. Eragon got up, following her body with his swift sapphire eyes. He intended to go after her and he made his way toward the door.

_Little one, do you think it wise to follow her? Perhaps it is best that you leave her alone for now. _

_I will not approach her, but I will not let her go unguarded either. _

Eragon followed quickly after Arya. He maintained a distance, but kept her his view at all times. She finally stopped at the cliff of the Burning Plains where Eragon had shown her before. Her knees gave out from underneath her and she fell to the ground in a wailing heap. Faolin was alive, he was alive all this time. All the time she had put thoughts of him out of her head. All the times when she realized she was falling in love with Eragon, all those times, he was out there, tortured and she did nothing.

Eragon watched Arya, she never left his mind. Something she mostly likely forgot to do. Thoughts of her and Faolin, mainly memories, arguments. Some kisses, some hugs, just being in each other's presence flitted through her mind. He wanted so badly to wrap his arms around her and take her away from her sorrow, but he knew that he was the last person she wanted to see. The only reason she was in this much duress was because of him. If he had not been her mate, if she had not fell in love with him or he with her, Faolin being alive would have never mattered. He cursed himself for doing this to her. Never had he imagined putting his love through this kind of pain and he was the cause of it. He hated himself for it.

Eragon studied his mind, flooded with Arya's distress. Slowly though, her thoughts shifted from Faolin to him. Memories of their time together, his comforting presence, his gifts and his words shot through her head at a much slower speed, as if savoring them. She felt guilty for leaving Eragon in the room. It was hard on him too, but he loved her that much that he still told her the truth. He could have left her in ignorance, left her unknowing, oblivious and she would have never found out. But he respected her enough to tell her the truth, even when it jeopardized their relationship. And Eragon. Eragon had just discovered that the brother he killed was in love with his liege lord, and yet he remained strong for her, knowing that he needed to tell her. He buried his pain and found the strength to be there for her. She had a strong desire to see him again, she wished she was not so alone…

Eragon could not take her distress any longer. His mate would never be alone again, not while he was here, not when he could be here.

"You have never been alone iet evarínya nuanen. I followed and I stayed in the shadows. You were never alone. I made a promise that I would not leave you. In case you fell asleep here or decided to really leave me, I made a promise that I would be here when you awoke. So I followed."

Arya whirled around at the sound of Eragon's voice. Never had she felt so relieved that he was next to her, that she was not alone, that no matter how badly she was hurt, she would never be left to pick up the pieces alone. She almost jumped into his arms. Her arms enveloped his neck, threatening to never let go. Her legs were wrapped around his waist so she was well above the ground. Eragon never wavered even when she was hanging onto him like a monkey to a tree. His arms held her body to him and her legs locked around him, resting on his lower back. He murmuring in the Ancient Language, soothing her, promising her everything would get better, comforting her. Her one light in the darkness, her one rising sun in Alagaesia was holding her tightly, ensuring that she would never fall. She held on to him, making sure that he could never leave even if he tried.

"I would never try to leave you. I love you too much Arya."

Arya could not find the strength to speak, but she sent her wish of wanting to go back. Eragon willingly obliged. Carrying Arya was hardly a task, he retained most of his agility and speed, but he purposely slowed so that Arya would not be hard pressed to relax against him. She fell asleep in his arms, safe in the recesses of his mind where he constantly bombarded her with feelings of love and affection. Once reaching their room, Eragon took out the candles and shut the window. He wanted as little disturbance as possible for Arya. It was still light outside, the sun had just begun to fall in the sky and Arya needed all the rest she could get. If her sleep was anything like his, then she had not slept well in ages. Eragon put his back to the window, in case some wind escaped into the warmth of the room. He gently released Arya's legs from around his waist and let them drop against his. He felt her toenails gently scrape against his feet before feeling them settle in between his. He pried her arms from around his neck and folded them so they were resting against his chest. Clasping his arms around his princess's body, he drew her closer into the warmth of his own body. Part of him felt relieved that even though she knew of Faolin, she still chose him. Another part deduced that he was the closest thing for comfort, but he silenced that part. Arya loved him, and he trusted her to continue loving him no matter came their way. They would have a long conversation, but the next morning. He had no doubt he had made the right decision.

Eragon awoke first to the stirring of the elf in his arms. He checked to see if it was a nightmare that entered her dreams, but she had a smile on her lips. The room was still dark, the sun had not risen, it was the early hours of the morning. Just as Eragon was about to place his arms back around Arya and fall asleep, a loud bang sounded on their door.

"Shurtugal! Drottningu!" came the call outside his door. Arya was just getting up. Not wanting her disturbed anymore by the shouting elf outside their door, he quickly padded across the room and opened the door. He was face to face with Nari, an elf that had guided him when he first traveled to Ellesmera.

Nari initiated the traditional elven greeting to which Eragon respectfully replied. "What are you doing here Nari?" Eragon's question was not unkind, but rather surprised.

"I was part of the new detachment of elven warriors to fight in the Battle of the Sea."

"Thank you for coming, your help will be greatly appreciated. Did you just arrive?"

"Yes Shurtugal, we just did. I am sorry for the disturbance this early in the morning, but Queen Islanzadi wishes speak with you."

Eragon coughed at that, "The Queen? The Queen is here?"

"Yes, Shurtugal, the Queen made her way down from Ellesmera with the new warriors. She and the elves that newly came will stay until the war is over. Not just the battle."

"That is good news. Arya and I will be down shortly."

Eragon motioned to close the door, but Nari stopped him. Eragon gave him a confused look before questioning, "What is it Nari?"

"I just wanted to congratulate you and Arya Drottningu. The Queen maybe against it, but most of her people are happy for both of you."

"Thank you Nari, your words are strengthening."

Nari let go of the door and bowed. He quickly left the premises. Eragon walked back to Arya. She was since awake, but still groggy from an early wake.

"Arya, iet naunen, we need to go. Your mother is here along with the new warriors."

That got her awake, "My mother is here? How come she never told me?"

"Have you even spoken with her recently?"

Arya looked at him incredulously, "After the last conversation we had, I had no desire to speak with her again. Let alone contact her."

"I see, in any case, it is not wise to keep the Queen of elves waiting."

Arya nodded and Eragon started to get up from his sitting position to ready himself. Her hand shot out to stop him. She watched as Eragon looked at her hand and then back at her. He took her hand in both of his and knelt down once again.

"What is it iet Drottningu?"

She leaned in to kiss him, slow and leisurely, savoring each moment like a child would a candy.

"Iet Shurtugal, thank you."

"For what Arya?" Eragon smiled at her, one of those smiles he reserved only for her.

"For yesterday. For giving me the greatest gift of coming back, and then burying your sorrow for me, and then for respecting me enough to tell me of Faolin, even when you could have hidden it and I never would have known. Thank you for that, and then for following me and protecting me when I did not think anyone could."

Arya looked back up at him, "Thank you for loving me Eragon. I would have felt worse if we were not mated to tell you the truth. But now, now I think that it was for the best. He was being tortured and there was little we could do under the King's watchful eye. He died an honorable death in the end, and now I am in peace because now, I have you. I know, it is selfish of me, to think it best Faolin is gone so I would not have to deal with the issues of him being alive. But it would have been harder on him, because I would still have chosen you. I know I did not love him as much as I love you. And I am not afraid to admit that."

Eragon just held her close, basking in her words. They offered a comfort to him more than anything else. "Arya, you are not selfish or self-serving. I would be lying if I told you that I was not happy that you love me more. But the only reason that I would be happy is because you would be happy. I love you Arya, let us not talk about these distressing events."

Arya nodded and pulled away to get changed. She was in no mood to take a bath yet, she would later on, but it was far too early. She pulled on her usual leather clothes and turned to look at Eragon. He was still wearing the tunic she bought him. He buckled Brisingr to his waist. She had taken the liberty of changing the scabbards. He put his breeches on and smiled at her.

"There is my warrior princess back in uniform."

Arya chuckled at him. It was a widely known fact that Arya was one of the best warriors in Alagaesia. Only Eragon ever bested her in a duel. She smiled wryly and watched as Eragon padded over their floor and put his arms around her. She rested her head against his muscular chest. "Are you ready to meet your mother?"

Eragon felt her smile against his chest, that was enough to send shudders through his body. "Am I ever ready to see my mother? Let us not go so soon. Let me stay here a while."

Eragon obliged, holding her to him. He marveled at his fate. He was but a farm boy. And now he was Lord Rider, Rider of Saphira, the most beautiful of dragons, and mate to Arya, the princess of elves. He should not curse fate so much. It took from him, and gave him the greatest of pleasures as well. Arya lifted her head and placed her lips briefly against his and led him out of the room.

"I never really told you how much I loved your poem."

Eragon smiled at her, "I meant to write a poem for you a long time ago, but for some reason the words just came together at that instant. Perhaps it arose from the fear of never seeing you again."

Arya gripped his hand tighter. Eragon responded by stroking thumb over her hand in a soothing sensation. "I am glad you liked it, iet Drottningu. There could be no one else it was meant for."

They neared the campsite, slowly briefly when they came closer. "Is Saphira coming?"

"Nay, she expressed her desire to sleep. She can greet Queen Islanzadi at a later time."

Arya sent her agreement and together they entered the new elven encampment. Most of the elves greeted them warmly. Eragon spotted Nari and gave him a respectful bow.

"Eragon?"

"Hmm?"

"Who came to our door this morning?"

"Nari did, he came to inform us that your mother wanted to see the both of us. And then he congratulated me and you, and that most of the elves are quite happy with your decision – your mother not included."

"He said that?"

"More or less, yes."

"That is indeed good news."

"That your mother does not approve."

"No, that the other elves do not have a problem with us."

"How so?"

"If the other elves accept it, then my mother will have no choice but to accept our relationship."

"She may not be happy about it, but she already has."

"In a way, but believe me Eragon, she will find a way to worm the topic back into a problem."

"I am sorry Arya."

"Do not be. It is no fault of yours or mine, for that matter. Today, you are the problem. Yesterday it was my studies and then my desire to become an ambassador. Tomorrow it will be something different, perhaps my recklessness pertaining to some other duties of mine. She will find some fault with me, one way or another."

"She loves you Arya, even in the flawed ways she shows it."

"Thank you Eragon, for attempting to instill hope in a place where I cannot see any. If she loves me, then she has an odd way of showing it. Perhaps the fault is with me, perhaps it is that I simply do not care anymore."

"You have no faults Arya."

The elven princess graced her features into a smile, but raised her eyebrow.

"And your greatest fault is that you are blinded."

"And happy to be, as long as you will be my eyes."

A faint blush rose in her face. "How do you make me feel like a little girl spending time with her first fancy?"

"I do? That is news to me, iet Drottningu."

Arya shook her head, obviously not satisfied with his answer.

"Arya, it is because no one has ever loved you like I do. That is why it feels new to you."

"That, iet liduen Shurtugal, that answer I can live with."

She leaned up and captured his lips in a gentle kiss. Arya sighed as she turned to look at the regal tent her mother resided in. Bracing herself for the encounter, she knocked on the wood and waited for her mother to allow them in. When she heard the word, Arya walked in, pulling Eragon close behind her.

If the Queen harbored any grudge against Arya for their last encounter, she did not show it. Instead, she embraced her daughter tightly, a very large smile showing in her renowned face. Arya seemed quite surprised, but she nonetheless responded to the embrace appropriately. She kept her hopes down, not wanting to be crushed again. Eragon knew the extent of her distress when her mother upset her. Only her mother could turn her into an angry, unreasonable elf, and only Eragon could calm her down. The princess stepped back, returning to Eragon's side once again.

The Rider bowed deeply and started the traditional elven greeting. The Queen, once again, waved away his gesture of respect and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

_I wonder if it's poisoned._

Eragon almost started to laugh…almost. Arya's sarcasm and spontaneity was often the cause of his trouble during an intense moment. There was a time in the celebration after Farthen Dur, when an extremely drunk dwarf had chosen to engage Eragon in a rather important conversation. The topic was insignificant; something like the origins of using cloth for clothes, but the dwarf was a prominent member of his clan and therefore deserved his respect. Unfortunately for him, Arya chose to stick to his side, constantly saying something or the other that pointed out the stupidity of the dwarf or some sarcastic comment or the other. Eragon had to seal his mouth shut magically at one point, and that was the first time he had seen a true smile on Arya's features.

_So trusting you are with your mother. _

_I would not put it past her to use some kind of method of poisoning her lips – not that they require any assistance. Eragon, be careful. _

_You do realize I almost burst out laughing. _

_That is fine, I would have sealed your mouth shut for you. _

_Really, how? Magic? Like I had to do when you were constantly poking fun at that poor dwarf. _

_That was quite entertaining. No, I would not use magic to seal your mouth. _

_How then?_

_It would be much simpler to kiss you. _

_That would be a much simpler way to kill me actually. You would seal my mouth and my grave. _

That made Arya almost laugh…almost.

_See, that is how you made me feel._

A smile graced her features again, and she curved her arm around his back and pinched his side…hard.

Eragon grimaced, but covered it with a suave, "How are you doing, Your Majesty?"

The Queen must have been in an incredibly good mood because she replied, "Oh very well, it is a splendid day. I will get a few hours rest and then we shall begin the war council."

Arya nodded and looked back at her mother. "Mother, was there anything else than just wanting to see us?"

"Yes, Arya there was, and this pertains to Eragon as well."

That caught the young Rider's interest. It would be concerning their relationship, that was for certain.

"Arya, my daughter, you know how I hate to cause you pain, but I feel you must know. We have found Faolin's body and it is evident that he did not die when you were captured. He died more or less a couple of months ago. I had an elf discover his body outside the castle walls of Uru'baen. Unable to carry the broken body of him, that elf buried him and gave him a proper funeral. I will consider it a mistake that you chose Eragon as a mate and leave it at that. But obviously in light on this new information, no one could expect the two of you to remain together. None of the elves will consider either of you unfaithful if you do separate, as it was my command."

Eragon sensed the immediate change in Arya's body language. Her anger radiated from her body. She could have started a wildfire with the rage coursing through her veins. She enunciated every word to her mother.

"How dare you."

"What are you speaki-"

"I am speaking of you mother. How dare you walk in the Varden camp and give me disturbing news and then expect me to part from the one man who can heal me. How dare you expect that from me. How dare you smile and be happy at the knowledge that this does hurt me. And for your information, Eragon knew, and he told me. And I still chose him, I still choose him. Even if Faolin was alive, I would still choose Eragon. Remember that. Remember that when I met someone who was like Father to you, remember that you tried to break us apart."

Arya turned on her heels, leaving her mother in a half terrified, half horrified state. Not sure whether the Queen was holding up well, Eragon turned back to Islanzadi. She looked paler than normal, white knuckled, and far older than her immortal body should show.

Unsure of what to do next, Eragon started, "I should go my Queen."

He began to turn when the Queen's voice rang out, "Sometimes I wonder where the years went. I wonder when she grew so old that she could make her own decisions. I am her mother. I wanted a man for her who put her up in a tower, and make sure she stayed there. A place where she would be safe, cared for, away from the horrors of war. And she found one, Faolin. She liked him, never loved, liked. I believed him a good match for her because of those reasons, but she never let him care for her either. She only let him love her, and that too, in a certain way. She never gave up her independence, not once. And now she is in love with you, the type of man perfect for her and the type I never wanted for her. One who would never, by mistake, take over her independence. One who would never attempt to petty her abilities. One who would die to protect her right to be free, not protect her."

"You are wrong there. I would die to protect her, but you must understand that she has the right to die to protect me as well. She deserves to be independent. She far more skilled, more talented than anyone else that I know. I only know how to keep her happy, and locking her away like the beautiful, yet innocent princess you want her to be will not make her happy. Do not fear for her life Queen. I will protect Arya, if I fall Saphira will protect her. And do not discount your daughter either. She is more than capable of protecting herself. Your Majesty, I love Arya. I want her to be happy, and I want your approval for that. Not for Arya, but for me. I have little family left, and ones I have left I want to keep close to me. I am your daughter's mate, that will not change."

Eragon bowed to the Queen who stared after him incredulously, as if she could not imagine being advised from the likes of her daughter and her mate. But Eragon could not be less concerned. Arya was mad, the rage was seeping in his mind, and he had to find her. There was no way he would leave her in that state. He chided himself for not immediately going after her, but in a way he was glad he stalled. The Queen said some things that Arya would have liked to hear. Eragon found her, minutes later, standing on the balcony in their room. She was staring at the ocean, her knuckles were white with gripping the rail. Not wasting the time to go up the stairs, Eragon ran up the side of the wall. He caught some vine plants and swung himself to the ridged part of the wall. He climbed, with a much earned strength and fluidity, up to the balcony where Arya looked down at him like he truly was the idiot he portrayed himself to be.

After successfully completing his climb, he swung his legs over the ledge and leaned against it. Arya made no move to look at him. When she did not speak, he started the conversation, "Are you not wondering why I did not take the stairs?"

"Adventure I am guessing." Arya's response was quick, unemotional, distanced. Eragon's heart broke. Only Arya's could be unemotional and show that much pain. He walked behind her, caging her body to the balcony. His arms went on either side of hers, and he pressed his warm body against hers. He turned his head into her neck, gently nuzzling the back of her ear and kissing her neck before replying.

"Adventure? No. I climbed the wall because you needed me and the stairs would have taken far too long."

Arya went molten. He knew what to say and exactly how to say it. How could she ever hope to resist him? The princess moved her hands over her lover's and wrapped them around her slim waist. She immediately felt comforted. She leaned back against his warm body and gave herself up to the sensations he caused with his mouth so dangerously close to making her lose control. She felt Eragon snake his way around to her lips and take them in his possession. He pulled back, instigating a slight protest from her.

"Iet Drottningu, there is a memory you should have. Perhaps your mother never had the courage to tell you."

Eragon sent her his conversation with the Queen. A tear leaked from the corner of her eye. The Rider caught it before it fell and turned it into a diamond star. It was small, but much bigger than her original teardrop. Arya smiled and took the star.

"There, my beautiful star now has her own."

The princess smiled even wider, "And my shining flower, where is that?"

Eragon lifted her and walked back to the room. He opened his pack and pulled out the package that had been so carefully wrapped with the dagger and the amethyst flower. He brought the flower to her, "Here is your shining flower."

"Eragon, you did not have to. I was jesting, I do not expect you to gift me anything."

"But I wanted to, and it reminded me of you."

Arya looked back at the purple flower. It was the exact color of her favorite flower, the Black Morning Glory. She walked towards their glass cabinet and opened it. There she placed the flower, the diamond star, and the three diamonds Eragon had converted her tears into before. She had neatly kept each one for remembrance. She turned to see Eragon look at her quizzically.

"I wanted to keep a safe place for everything you have given me. Except for the pendant, which is always around my neck. And the fairth of us. I love looking at it every morning, and of course the poem, I always have that close by. Everything else you have given me goes safely away."

Eragon smiled at her thoughtfulness. He walked over and kissed her. "This, Arya, this you should keep with you."

He placed the dagger in her hand. "I bought it off the shopkeeper who I had seen selling to a noble. It was him that told me of the trading between the West and these two generals. I bought it for you, it is a good quality and you used to have a dagger."

Arya looked at him wondrously, it was two years since she had carried one. "How did you know what weapons I had?"

"When I took you out of Gilead, I noticed everything unusual about your body. After I healed your wounds, I looked to your arms and discovered a slight discoloration on your left arm. It was of a lighter color, and in a shape of a small point and a dagger along with a strap that ran from here to here." Eragon traced a path on her upper bicep, causing shivers to run down her spine. "I knew it was the holder of a dagger, but I did not go back and get it. It was the last of my concerns when it came to getting you the antidote."

"Thank you Eragon, it is a beautiful piece of weaponry. I have to say that I am impressed that you were able to figure out what weapons I carried on me."

"I am quite talented."

Arya looked up at him, a hint of amusement sneaking into her features after his obvious mock boast. She leaned up and kissed him again.

"That, my Rider, you are very much so."

The elf looked down at the weapon again. The running from the top of the handle to the blade made it apt for hanging up as a decorative piece or attaching it to a garment or a similar chain of sorts. She pulled the blade out and examined it. It was of a fine quality, much better than any weapons human made and even ran a close second for the dwarven made weapons.

Eragon was watching her intently, wondering when the thought would cross her. When she made no sign of anything other than mere observations the beauty of the craft, Eragon voiced his concerns, "The blade troubled me."

Arya looked at him, concern etched in her features. Her mate gave her a faint smile and brought his hand to smooth the creases formed from her worrisome features. He elaborated his statement.

"The blade is very well crafted. This maybe a decorative piece here, but there is no doubt that the dagger is strong and of a quality that rivals even the best of forgers here. Which means that the warriors from the West have strong weapons. I doubted anything could match elven quality weapons, but this is as close as possible."

Retracting his hand, he looked at the dagger again. Arya continued to look at her Rider. He was troubled by his observations, there was no doubt. Attempting to soothe his concerns she voiced her opinion, "And we have something they do not."

"What is that Arya? Tactics that resemble a butcher shop, magic, or the superiority of the elven warriors? We know nothing about these armies, they could have ten times the power and resources we do."

"You, we have you Eragon."

"I am only one man Arya, I cannot be everywhere at once."

"You do not need to be everywhere to win a war. Your presence has made Varden soldiers find the strength to press on. I have seen it time and again. You give inspiration to the soldiers around you."

"What if it is not enough? I will not run, and neither will you."

"Then do not run and do not die, as long as one man of the Varden is standing till the end, then we will have one."

"Arya, I cannot stand without you."

"I will always be yours Eragon, remember that."

Eragon rested his head on his mate's shoulder. She could send his heart racing even in the most dismal of times.

"Love, do not fear what has not happened. We will win this battle and we will win the war."

"At what price?"

"I do not know, but I do not feel like I have lost what is important anymore. I still have you and you still have Saphira."

"And I still have you Arya. You are just as important. Losing Selena was as painful as losing Saphira for my father. Losing you would be just as hurtful to me."

"You will never lose me. That I can promise you."

Eragon turned his head at an angle so his head rested on its side, facing his mate's neck. He loved the fact she was tall enough that he did not have to bend down at an awkward angle when he was standing. Just another indication to him that they were perfect together.

"Does that mean that if I was slightly shorter or you were slightly taller, then we would not be perfect?"

"No, iet Drottningu, it would mean that I would need to lift you, and that would tire me quickly."

"And now you say that I am heavy."

"I am not helping my situation am I?"

Arya laughed, the melodious sound of her laughter swept through his ears and cleared his mind of any fears. It rendered him unable to think, and his heavy thoughts were exactly what he wanted to escape.

Smiling at his beautiful princess, Eragon asked, "What is the agenda today?"

"We make for the sea, the battle is soon to commence. About five days now. The maps are being prepared for each of the leader and generals. The battle preparations are scheduled to be ready in two days, for each of the mediums. We thought it best that we attach the water pike system on the morning of the fourth day."

"I would rather put the system in during the nighttime. The night of the fourth day will be a better time. Who knows what eyes will watch the seas in the light of day?"

"Eragon, the ocean is at its worst during the night. It is far more dangerous."

"I realize that, but Saphira can handle the surge of the waves. If the current gets too strong then we can fly out and try again, but I doubt it will."

"Very well, when would you like to leave for the ocean then?"

"Later tonight or tomorrow morning. Since you and I will be flying, it will hardly take more than six to seven hours."

"I have my tent prepared. All we need to do is pack the clothes and other items and we will be ready to go. I did not pack your tent, I did not think it necessary."

"Two tents for the both of us is not necessary, do we even need to pack separate bags? I doubt the war will take that many days, whether we are winning or not."

Arya thought for a second, four days is not too long of a stay. "No, Eragon we do not."

"Good, I did not want to burden Saphira with too many things to carry, our weapons and her armor will be hard enough to carry for a long time."

"By what time would you like to leave?"

"There is nothing left for me to do here, I would rather make to the sea and see exactly how the preparations are going."

"Very well, I will send a runner to my mother and inform her of our departure." Arya's voice still contained a bite to it when she mentioned her mother, but Eragon knew exactly why. Again, he let his observation slide. He noticed she had acted somewhat reserved when it came to her mother. Arya did not even discuss or even say a word about his memories with Queen Islanzadi. He thought better of asking her opinion and decided that when his mate was ready, she would talk of it.

He knew firsthand that a few words of love where far too little to overcome years of painful memories, but Arya and her mother were family and they would eventually reconcile, as most families do. A pang of guilt filled him as he remembered Murtagh. Eragon was certainly not a true family member, he went to battle with the intention to kill his brother, and came out a success. No real brother would have done that. Maybe certain relationships could never be healed. And now, Nasuada was fated to die regardless of the outcome of the war. Not only would Alagaesia lose its most capable leader, but Eragon would lose another of his friends. Just another name to add on an ever growing list. How could he ever hope to face Nasuada again? He killed his brother, her lover, and he was consoling himself. And Nasuada lost her father and her love. _Both deaths occurring because of me._ Eragon's solemn thoughts were quickly dispelled when Saphira entered his mind.

_Do not fret over such inconsequential thoughts. _

_Inconsequential? You call the deaths of Ajihad and Murtagh inconsequential._

_No, I call your thoughts inconsequential. There is nothing you can do about it now, nothing that I will let you do anyway. Ajihad died as a product of the war, a war we are trying to end, not escalate. Murtagh died willingly. Believe, you did not kill him as much as he made a conscious decision to die by your hand. Give credit where credit due, at the same time, do not take the blame when it is not yours. _

_Thank you Saphira, but I still feel responsible for Nasuada's pain. _

_You can do nothing of it now, talk to her later, perhaps after this battle, in a more merry atmosphere_

_That I will do, but not now, not before we leave today. _

_The destination?  
_

_The sea. _

_Hurry Eragon, I can hardly wait to set my sights upon a sight so grand as the ocean! It is one thing to talk of it, and another to truly fly over it. Gather up your belongings, eat your food, two hours and I will wait for you and Arya in the courtyard. And tell Arya that I could rip up her mother's tent if she would like. _

_Saphira, please do not. _

_Just a suggestion, ask Arya. _

Eragon complied, hoping Arya was not in a bad enough mood to agree to Saphira's flamboyant suggestion.

"Arya?"

"Hmm?" Arya was busy packing some more things, mainly weapons although she placed the fairth he had given her in the bag as well. She did not look up, only acknowledging his presence verbally.

"Saphira would like to know if you wanted her to rip your mother's tent apart."

"Hmm, that would be a sight to see." Arya mused her thoughts out loud. She cast a glance at her mate, and she was once again reduced to peals of laughter at his mortified expression.

"Arya, please do not tell me you are seriously considering her offer."

"No, but I am having fun imagining what it would be like. I have a very inventive imagination."

"I have no doubt to the truth of that."

Arya's gaze fell into a sultry stare, aimed at her Rider. "When shall we leave?"

"Saphira said she would wait for two hours before her patience would run out, but she is out hunting and she will be at least another half hour or so."

"In that case, within a half and hour, I would like to talk to you."

"About what?"

"You shall know in due time. It has nothing to do with our relationship or with our mother or any of the unfortunate occurrences this morning."

Eragon looked perplexed, but he remained silent and replied, "Where would you like to go?"

"Nowhere in particular, our room is as good as any, but I do think you have not spent enough time outside. It is a beautiful day, let us take a walk in the forest you have saved."

Eragon smiled and took her hand, "Then we shall take a walk, but in no forest that I saved."

The pair walked through the Varden grounds, soliciting smiles from their observers or acknowledgement from known others, but mainly keeping to themselves. They strolled in silence, uncaring of prying eyes, until they passed the gates of the Varden. Hiking for a good half a mile, Eragon's curious mind got the better of him.

"Iet Drottningu, what did you want to speak with me of?"

Arya stopped, causing Eragon to turn and stand in front of her. She looked in his eyes, a calculating gaze, but comforting. Whether her eyes were for herself or him, he could not place.

"Did you wonder why you were much more tired than normal this morning?"

"Not really, Nari woke us up. That is why."

"He merely woke you up about twenty minutes before you had normally gotten up every morning. That time was of no consequence."

"I do not understand. What are you trying to say?"

"Eragon last night, you were talking in your sleep. I am assuming you met this woman, Ardrianne, in the capital."

"What exactly did I say?"

"You spoke of a woman named Ardrianne and a promise fulfilled. Who is she?"

Eragon looked away unsteadily. This was one secret he had hoped to keep. He feared he would seen as a monster. Whether or not Saphira knew, he did not know. But if Arya knew…he feared the results. He feared she would brand him as dangerously impulsive, unfit…unlovable. He tried to keep it silent, but he could not keep it a secret.

"Ardrianne was a woman who worked under Darius. A waitress in his tavern. The morning after I worked there, she was crying and when Darius and I inspected as to why, we discovered that she had been drugged and raped by the very general I injected with the poison Death's pain. I made her a promise that the man who had hurt her would pay greatly, and I delivered. It was a promise worth keeping. Last night, I had first nightmare in a long time. I kept on imagining myself, my ruthless self, poisoning him and I hated myself for it. I did not tell you because I was ashamed. I wanted to kill him, and I was afraid for telling you. Afraid that you would look to me as a monster. I maybe a monster to myself, but I could not live with myself had you or Saphira seen me as one. That is why I did not tell you, but apparently even my subconscious is devoted to you. Even when it threatens to reveal my monstrosity."

"Eragon, he raped and drugged a woman, traded drugs and arms with those who would see to the Varden's downfall. How can you think that you are the monster in this scenario?"

"I endangered the fate of the Varden to save a man, Katrina's father. He was also immoral, a man who deserved to die. But I stayed and spared him thinking that because he was no harm to me, and I have no personal vengeance against him that I could not, in all good faith, harm him. So I let him go. And now…now I purposely mark and hunt a man when there was no personal threat to me. I am a killer, not a savior."

"Listen to me. Not only was this general a threat to people in Alagaesia, he was also a threat to you. Sloan was not, not anymore. You did not kill him out of revenge, but out of a feeling for justice."

"Who am I to take justice into your own hands? I am just Eragon."

"You are Eragon, Lord Rider of Vroengard and last free Rider of Alagaesia. You have more of a right to deliver justice than anyone else here for that matter."

"If I did the right thing, then why do I have these nightmares?"

"Eragon, there are people sentenced to a life of service. People like you, those who are able to go past the barriers of right and wrong and do what is necessary. What others do not understand is that killing an enemy is still killing. We have to live with that. Yet when we take matters of the people's welfare into our own hands, we take lives, just as our enemies take lives. And for the better of Alagaesia, we sentence ourselves to nights of horrid dreams because we are doing what is necessary for the greater good. Sometimes a thorn must be removed with a thorn. But thorns still prick, no matter what rose they are on. In the pursuit of justice, there must be those who deliver justice. Do not mourn the immoral, mourn the soldiers who had no choice or have just as an important reason to fight as we do. Do not mourn that general, if you had left him alone, I would have killed him in a far more painful way. It was fitting, you gave him his own medicine, he died by his own hand. His actions led him that way, it led him to you."

"And my feelings Arya? I enjoyed taking his life, I enjoyed making sure he was in pain till his last moment."

"Enjoyment, no. You did not kill him with a smile on your face, but a determination on your eyes. You became emotionless, able to lay a fitting sentence, as most those devoted to service are able to do. You did not enjoy killing him, you enjoyed the fact that another man who received his due justice."

Eragon did not reply. His forte was not in philosophical debates, that was the strength of his late masters. He was a warrior – hell bent on saving his home. The scholar aspect of being a Rider, he would have to learn later.

"I only want this war to end. The next defining battle is around the corner, and then who knows how close the next battle will be."

The elf princess stared at him. Honestly, she did not know what to think. Unable to doubt his fidelity, she doubted his sanity. But not like this. Arya strongly believed that Ardrianne was some woman in his past, someone he had failed or at least believed he had. Not someone he had succeeded in appeasing. The fact both scenarios could hurt her love was not the best feeling. In her effort to ease his conscience, she put together some words and phrases and tried to make sense of it. Truthfully, she was not much of a scholar either, but somehow she had distracted him from his thoughts. The Battle of the Sea would be the defining moment in this war.

Arya gently laid a hand on her Rider's shoulder. Smiling at him, she gently prodded, "We should head over to the sea. I will tell my mother that we are leaving and what time she is expected to be there."

She turned to leave, when a warm, strong hand reached out and grasped hers. She turned around, the question showing in her face. She watched as Eragon slowly lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed hers. A slow, emotion filled kiss. Not demanding anything, just a testament of his love for her.

He broke away gently, "Iet Drottningu, I would never let you face your mother alone. Not after what she has done to you."

Normally, the elf would have taken offense that the Rider did not think her capable of facing her own mother. However, considering exactly how painful her encounters had been, Arya had no problem taking Eragon's support in the matter. He knew, more than anyone, of the great rift between Queen and Princess. It touched her that he would think of her needs before she thought of her own. Arya nodded and walked closely by his side, her hands laced gently, yet firmly with his.

They walked towards the elven camp. When they had been greeted earlier, most had left them alone. They were all tired from three days of a nonstop walk. It did not help matters that a battle was around the corner. Even if elves did not outwardly show it, they feared death, more so than any other race. They were a peaceful race, only capable of violence in the most dire of circumstance. Skilled warriors with literally forever to hone their skills. Eragon sympathesized. Being a human, his race had grown accustomed to the fact that they would die one day. Instead of dying a running coward, most human soldiers faced their death with honor, dying to protect something they believe in. Elves had something to believe in, but they also had eternal life. For them, whether dying to save a land that could not outlive them or to outlive it was a difficult choice. The Rider respected that. The elves here were here of their own volition. They consciously made the choice to fight and help save a land that perhaps whose fate might not have been intertwined with them. But then again, who could truly be happy this much suffering was going on? Another unsolvable problem, Eragon seemed to have a lot of those lately. Conundrums, puzzles, questions, enigmas, riddles, phenomena…everyone seemed to pay attention to those.

As he thought, Angela was probably solving the problem of finding an antidote for the new poisons. The Queen was solving the phenomena of her daughter falling in love with him. Saphira was questioning how fast it would take to get to the ocean front. Arya was a puzzle to herself. And for himself, he had far too many questions to group them as conundrums or what not. But the most important task he had would be to get the pikes in place for the battle. What could happen after that was indeterminable.

The Queen was resting, and so they left a message with the guard and left the premises. They would see each other again later that day, and a day before Rider and Dragon would set out to fix the pipe system. Heading back to the courtyard, Eragon and Arya spotted Saphira. They brought down their bags, packed with weapons, armor, and other instruments of destruction, leaving little room for comforts. They were going to a battle, not some retreat by the ocean.

After securing their belongings to Saphira's saddle, the pair leapt on the great dragon and was off towards the ocean. Several minutes passed, and Eragon had still not said a word. He could sense his dragon's worried nature.

_Little one, what are you thinking of?_

_This and that. _

_What a specific answer._

_Sorry. I was thinking of how to get the pike system in. I was thinking of rope, but that is far too flimsy, much to easily dislodged. Iron rods would certainly do the trick, but I fear the density is far too great. The system would sink far below sea level, rendering it useless. If we use magic means, the holders would be far too exhausted trying to keep the system in place if there is a storm. Not to mention, it would tiring, and rather inefficient. One use of energy versus a constant flow is not ideal in the situation. _

_I see the dilemma. Why not use a system similar to what ships use to stay at bay?  
_

_Anchors could potentially work, however, we would need a strong enough base coupled with exact measured rope to avoid drifting. Even a couple inches here or there could throw off the system. Luckily the battle is taking place on an oceanfront, but land curves the sides about five hundred feet out. The water there is slightly shallow, so there is no need to cover the entire five hundred feet, only the places deep enough that ships can sail. The anchoring system will have to work. We will mold iron, and get rope strong enough to keep the system in place. It will block the only entrance to the Alagaesia land. _

_How can you be so sure that the Westlanders will enter through that area only?_

_It is the only place viable. Any other landing spot will cause the ships to be under heavy assault from unguarded waves. Not only is that treacherous, it makes the water nigh impossible to anchor it. The land surrounding the water provided here, takes away the brazen waves and gives calm waters. It is the only place they could potentially land. If they land elsewhere, then the ocean will take care of the battle for us. Not to mention, in open water off the West Coast, there are numerous sea serpents prowling the waters. Our enemies will not turn back unscathed even if they do not attack us. _

_Eragon –finarel, Saphira? _

_Glaedr-elda, how have you been?_

_Quite well, finarel. Congratulations on a job well done in the heart of the Empire. I am particularly proud that you did not stray from your task and search for the last egg or the other eldunari in Galbatorix's command. It could have led the Varden into an extremely binding position even if you had been successful. However, I do not wish to speak to you of matters of the past. What do you remember of sea serpents?_

_Just the basics elda. The Dragon Fundor fought one, although no one knew what happened after that. They are significantly large creatures, able to kill a dragon. They are extremely deft and swift creatures even for their size, but they have trouble moving in close quarters for the same reason. Snakes are said to have evolved from sea serpents. _

_Yes, that is all true information. Hear this. Sea serpents are known to breed once a year, during the changing of the summer and the fall. Around early August. As of right now, it is late July. For all anyone knows, the serpents have already begun breeding. _

_Pardon me elda, but why does this matter? _

_The breeding behavior of sea serpents is different from normal behavior. While they prefer the ferocity of the sea to camouflage their movements, they require much calmer waters to breed. _

_The waters of the inset that we have been preparing. _

_Exactly. You need to put the pike system in as soon as possible, the breeding time might have already started, but in a few days the sea will be teeming with these serpents. We can use it to our advantage if the timing is right. Because the pike system in surface level, the serpents will have an easy time getting in and out, however, we need a much sturdier means of holding the system in place. _

_What do you propose? _

_An anchoring system, but slightly modified. Place iron rings in the sand, make sure it is deep enough to stick to the ground, and create a flat surface parallel to the ocean floor. Get heavy rocks and place them on those sides. Attach elven rope, it has been known to be effective in many mediums to hold the system just under surface level. Because of the calculations, the pike system will float as its density is also less than water. We need nothing holding it up, rather keeping it underneath. Do the same to all four corners and the system will be safely embedded. Do it tonight, there may not be time if we tarry longer. _

_Thank you Glaedr-elda. _

_How long will it be until you arrive Saphira? _

_Another hour or so Glaedr-elda. I quickened the pace. _

_Very well, how are the Islanzadi Drottning and Arya Drottningu doing? It has been awhile since I have talked of the elves. _

_The Queen has just arrived this morning with a new batch of soldiers and Arya is here with me now. _

_Is she asleep? _

Eragon looked down at the Arya. She had fallen asleep. Nothing to be extremely surprised about there, she was, after all, extremely exhausted from the day's events. His sleep talking was obviously cause for concern. He wondered exactly how long she remained awake listening to his banterings.

_Yes, Glaedr-elda, she is asleep. Should I wake her?_

_No, let her rest. She seems peaceful for a change…Oromis loved her very much. _

_I never knew the extent of their relationship. _

_After __Evandar Könungr was slain in a battle, Arya was devastated. She was old enough to remember her father, yet far too young to cope well with his death. They were very close. Evandar took her to his council meetings, personally taught her all she knows of battle techniques and swordplay. When most elves tried to be devoid of emotion, Evandar was full of it. He openly loved his mate and his daughter, and he was loved for it. He and Oromis were good friends. They had often talked and counseled each other. That is how Oromis and Arya were first introduced. She was still a child, playful, naughty, very endearing. It did not take long for Oromis to care for the child. When Evandar passed away, Oromis took over the responsibility for her education. She spent twenty years, studying as much as she could, about everything she could or that Oromis was willing to teach. Islanzadi drifted in that time. She was devastated from her loss, and soon she began to teach herself not to feel much anymore. She kept her emotions bottled inside of her. When the time came and Arya expressed her desire to help the war's cause, Islanzadi feared the same fate for Arya as her mate. She pushed Faolin onto her daughter, hoping love would somehow rein her in. When that did not work, the Queen banished her, in hopes her heart would harden enough to deal with her death. As far as Oromis and Arya go. They were teacher and student, friends. Arya looked to Oromis as a father figure when she had lost her own. Oromis looked to Arya as a kind of family, one he had long since lost. _

_Lost, Glaedr –elda? _

_Oromis had a family. He was one of a twin. His brother only shared his face, nothing else. Oromis had a knack for education, he loved it, reveled in it. Knowledge was his happiness. His brother loved weaponry, the state and art of battle. His name was Balylth. His name literally meant The Guard Blade. What his true name was, no one ever knew, not even Oromis himself. Balylth was never chosen by a dragon, even though many believed he would be one. When Oromis was chosen instead of him, he expressed his happiness. He was proud of his brother, he was proud that his brother would be able to travel and expand his knowledge that he loved so much. Balylth had no such desire. He joined the elven warriors and quickly rose in ranks. He fell in love, mated, and had a child. However, the war had just begun, and Balylth had been called for battle. It would have been fine had he been in Ellesmera, but at the time, Illirea was still the capital. One of the Forsworn had snuck into the palace and killed as many women and children he could. Balylth's wife and child included. Enraged by their deaths, he charged at the Forsworn member and killed him, but he lost his own life in the process. Balylth remains the only non Rider to ever kill a member of the Forsworn. His prowess in the field of battle is legendary. Oromis was devastated at his brother's loss. I suppose that is why Oromis loved Arya so much. She was about the same age as his niece, only with black hair and green eyes, versus his own blonde hair and gray eyes. Needless to say, he did not take their loss well. He became hell bent of revenge, which eventually led him to his capture and escape with his curse. He learned his lesson, and then played a small role in the demise of the other Forsworn._

_Thank you for telling me Glaedr-elda. I am honored by your trust in me. _

_Do not think anything of it. You deserve to know information pertaining to your mate and your late master. He was a good man, even with his flaws. _

_We all have flaws, it is what shapes up, molds us. Even our flaws can be considered valuable assets. _

_Yes, I suppose you are right. Your father said the same thing. Brom was an interesting character, extremely intelligent. Brom was the only one to ever stump Oromis in a debate. _

_What was it on?_

_Remember the lesson on bending light. _

_Yes, how to bend light to mask your presence. _

_When Oromis taught the lesson, he made a philosophical debate on the existence and non existence of something. Whether or not you can see something, does it mean that it is not there, and so on and so forth. He asked his students to prove to him that a chair in the middle of the classroom did not exist. Some students wrote intricate spells, some destroyed the chair, others wrote philosophically paralleling the existence of a chair to the presence of a God. But Brom stood up and simply said, "What chair?" Oromis was very amused. After that day, Oromis took Brom in as his disciple of sorts. Brom often surprised Oromis with his intelligence and quick witted responses. Oromis expressed his desire for Brom to become a teacher at Vroengard, but Brom declined citing his reasons to be looking for adventure. It was then when Brom had taken a liking to one of Oromis's senior students, Morzan. Brom was blinded by his love and respect for Morzan, and when he was betrayed, Brom got his revenge and started the Varden. Your father was an extremely intelligent man, much like you are. _

_I hardly consider myself proficient with philosophical debates. _

_Perhaps that particular talent is not yours, but you have a different type of intelligence. You are proficient with words, you can mask your meaning in the Ancient Language. Poems, stories, languages, they come easy to you. You are very good in science as well. Mixing and brewing potions and antidotes is a careful chemistry, yet you are quite intelligent in that particular field. But most of all, you are very good with magic. _

_I do not have the knowledge base of the Ancient Language like other elves do. _

_That is exactly the point. Even with limited knowledge, you were able to cast intricate spells that many others could not. Not to mention, even before your power surge, you were still well above the standards for magical potential for a human. You were very powerful. Not many have the ability to teach magic, but you would be a great instructor for it. _

_Thank you for that Glaedr-elda. I truly wish I knew more about my parents. _

_In a way, you know more about them than anyone else finarel. Your parents are a part of you. You are intelligent and composed, like your father. But you have more of your mother in you. Loving, caring, able to see beauty where only others see destruction. You are your parents, a unique combination of the two, never forget that. I do believe that is one of the only reasons that you have the princess of elves in your arms. _

_Meaning? _

_Arya is strong, but she can take only so much battering. Oromis expressed his happiness that Arya had finally taken an interest in you, even if it was only for your sake. She needed a friend, not a mentor, and certainly not another protecting figure. Arya expressed her feelings for you, saying that they were confusing and incomprehensible. She did not know what to think of them. At the same time, she was afraid of rejection. _

_Rejection? From me? Anyone would have been in awe of her. _

_Yes, but what if you had loved someone else? _

_That was not the case. _

_How was she supposed to know? If you had loved someone else, I doubt you would have left her even if it was Arya. _

Eragon said nothing. Glaedr-elda was correct in a way. If he had loved someone, he would love her as much as he loved Arya. And if that were the case, then Arya would have had no place in his heart, except the place of a friend.

_Do you understand what I mean finarel?_

_Yes, elda, I do. _

_Oromis invited her for your lesson on fairth making. He told her that if he became distracted with her presence, and made something of hers instead then she need not fear rejection. That was exactly what had happened. But Oromis was unaware that Islanzadi had already noticed her daughter's increasing presence around you, and confronted her daughter about it. Arya was scared that the Queen could potentially banish her or you, which would separate you both for quite a long time, not to mention getting you killed. In fear for your life, and partially in fear for exactly how well you knew her, as expressed by her later, she broke the fairth and left angrily. She rejected your pursuit later on for the same reasons. But is was your love and caring that eventually broke her hard mask. She fell apart when Oromis died, and she depended on you to pick up her shattered soul. And you did, time and again. She began to realize exactly how many times she had depended on you and stayed stoic yourself. She did not care anymore, of what her mother could do. Arya would have been prepared to go against her Queen for you. I only wish Oromis was here to see his favorite student and his little child together, happy for a first time. _

_I do not know what to say Glaedr-elda. I can only express my gratitude with the information you have given me. _

_I am only telling you of events that Oromis would have eventually told you when he deemed you ready. I am only doing so for him. _

_Why did Oromis-elda never take a mate? _

_He loved his knowledge too much. It was not that no one tried. Many women pursued him, few caught his eye, and even less his heart. There was one potential woman, but she was killed a few days into the battle. Then Oromis refused to even think of the subject again. _

_Who was she? _

_A human, long red hair. Striking hazel eyes. Very pretty, active, very proficient with a sword. In a sentence, everything he was not, but nothing he strived to be. _

_How did she die? _

_Morzan killed her. Oromis was grateful to your father for Morzan's death. _

_What was her name? _

_Isabella. _

_Glaedr-elda, Eragon, we are nearing the ocean. I say we do this as quickly as possible. _

_Alright Saphira, first let me set up the tent, and then find Commander Alinor. Is this a good spot to set up camp? _

They were in the middle of the elven and dwarven camp, a good spot to be easily accessible. The Urgals were a bit farther down, and the humans were on the outskirts, back away from the ocean. Eragon gently got off, and fixed the tent with magic. He left their bag packed except for the mattresses and their weapons. He donned his armor and went to inform Arya of their change in plan. She was still sleeping peacefully. Not wanting to wake her up, he left a note and went to find the elven commander.


	8. Chapter 33 The Battle of the Sea

Chapter 33 – The Battle of the Sea

He walked through the encampment. Most elves greeted Saphira first, others him, still others bowed and walked away. They found Commander Alinor quickly, he was hard to miss in his red elven armor. Commander Alinor was not from Ellesmera, rather Ceris. He grew up on the outskirts near Lake Eldor. He did not hail from a prominent background, but he showed considerable skill in war tactics. He was recruited by King Evander's right hand man, and had been in the elven rank ever since. He held himself in different esteem. He was not haughty, but he commanded respect. His armor was not traditional, rather a more red and gold taste to it. He was easy to spot on a battlefield, but very hard to defeat. His warriors listened to him more out of respect then necessity. He did not dictate their lives, rather ensure their safety on the battlefield. Eragon suspected that his armor was red and gold as he would be easy to spot by his soldiers. It was little things like these that showed Commander Alinor's proficiency in war tactics. He found the Commander in his tent, going over some plans.

"Commander Alinor?"

The elf looked up at him. Eragon followed with the traditional elven greeting and stood waiting at the entrance.

"Shadeslayer, Bjartskular. It is good to see you again. How go things in the Varden?"

"Well, the Queen and her warriors have arrived and will be here by nightfall or tomorrow morning early. Is the pike system ready?"

"Yes, it has been completed. These are the maps of the field, the positions of the ditches are marked."

"That is wonderful news, please get these to each of the commanders when they arrive. If it is possible, I would like to place the system in as soon as possible. We might have a problem later if the sea serpents arrive. It is their breeding season, and they require a place like this."

"Then we shall get it ready, have you thought of a way?"

"Yes, I need eight iron pieces and elven rope."

"Very well, the pike system is already by the ocean side, I will send for the iron and rope. In the meantime, we shall go down and see it."

"Thank you Commander Alinor."

Saphira followed close behind Eragon, Alinor, and a few of his lieutenants.

"Shadeslayer, is Arya Drottningu with you?"

"Yes, she did come with me. She had long days, and she is resting at the moment."

"I am glad to hear it. The last few days, Arya Drottningu has been shuffling back and forth between the camps communication system on the progress of the weapons. It was a tiring job, that and solving quarrels between humans, elves, dwarves, and Urgals are not easy."

"Have there been many quarrels?"

"Well, no, but the magnitude is quite high. Elves do not believe in God, humans do. Dwarves believe in many. Urgals believe in their strength."

"Ah, so the beliefs were questioned? That is always a cause for much concern. Was it eventually solved?"

"Thanks to Arya Drottningu it has. She united everyone under the banner of believing in something, and fighting for something. But different races will always have their differences. That is the way of life. At least now, we have you to somewhat pacify those notions."

"What do you mean Commander?"

"Frankly speaking Shadeslayer, you are neither a human nor an elf. Yet you possess characteristics of both, the best of them. You are part dwarf in soul, due to your indictment into King Orik's family. And you command the respect of the Urgals, namely the Kull for freeing them. They also consider you as one of them. That bond has been formed because of your talks with Nar Garzhvog and your respectable questioning of their beliefs. Garzhvog came back with praises of you. He deemed you to be a man with the strength of a hundred Kull, and the heart of a hundred lions. He said you were part of them as well, part of their race in your pursuit of your goal."

"Perhaps there may be a time when I am not required to unite the four races."

"Perhaps Shadeslayer, but there is no doubt that you do."

They walked in silence the rest of the way.

"Commander! Commander!"

The elf turned around, "The iron and rope are here."

Eragon took the pieces and molded two together perpendicularly. It made a cross of the sorts. He then curved the top into a ring, ensuring nothing could slip through the gap. He repeated the process with six other pieces. He tied the rope to the four corners of the pike system. Lifting the pikes with magic, he picked up the four ring stands and mounted Saphira. They dove in the water, the pike system was the perfect position, several feet below the surface level. Saphira swam to the bottom, which thankfully was not too deep because of the shoreline. Eragon shoved the iron rod into the ground and located two large stones to keep it in place. He tied the rope onto the ring with magic, and Saphira shot to the surface. She could hold her breath for significantly longer than her Rider could.

Eragon gasped for breath when Saphira emerged. He probably could have lasted a few more seconds, but he did not want to take a chance. So far so good, no sight of a sea serpent. Saphira dove diagonally and Eragon caught hold of the rope as she descended. The depth was not as prominent as the last one. Saphira located some rocks quickly and nudged them in place as Eragon secured the rope onto the iron rod. He swam back in her saddle and again Saphira took off for the air. Eragon observed the system from the top. It was barely discernible, it went invisible as they neared the waters, perfect for hiding it.

Saphira dove once again, and then another time as the last two corners were secured. Eragon looked upon the ocean for the first time. He looked past the little islet he was in. The fragrance of salty water and fresh water permeated his senses. He loved the openness, its unadulterated freedom. He could stay for hours here, he was a water kind of person. The sound of waves crashing against rock, the spray of water from it, the moisture it the air. _Captivating_, he would not at all mind staying here for longer. Or perhaps take an outing or two a year to visit the ocean.

_It is beautiful is it not, little one? _

_It exceeded any notions I have ever had of the beauty of nature. The atmosphere is much different here than anywhere else. _

_Yes, it is. I feel lighter in a way, more composed in another way. I know how much you wanted to see the ocean when you were younger. This would be a good place to finally settle down. The town is not three hours, if I fly fast enough, and it is secluded enough that you have no worries of interruptions. _

_It would be a relief, but Arya is in line for the throne, and she will need to stay in Ellesmera when she finally takes it. Our children will have to be there as well. One of them will have to take the throne eventually. And then we have the matters of rebuilding the race of Riders. _

_That is quite a list you have developed Master Rider. Perhaps in a few centuries then. _

_Perhaps in about ten centuries, if we manage to live that long. _

_As long as we survive the next year or so, I am sure we will live that long. _

_You never know Saphira. You were always the one who said that I have a knack for attracting danger. _

_Luckily, I will be by your side. We should head back, we do not want to alert the ships that we are waiting for them, and I do see sea serpents ahead. _

_Where? _

_Merge our minds, and you will see. _

Eragon did as Saphira said. Saying the words, he immediately located the sea serpents. They were a good hundred miles off, but their bodies were huge. Eragon estimated a few hundred feet in length.

_We need to go back, I do not doubt your strength, but I do not think I want you battling one of these. We shall warn the others to keep away from the ocean. The area will be teeming with them soon. _

Saphira headed towards land, she glided down towards Commander Alinor and his company. Eragon spoke first, "Commander, we have secured the pike system. It held together very well, and it was perfectly done. Thank you for that. Saphira spotted a particularly large sea serpent in the distance. It was heading this way, no doubt for the breeding purposes. We need to send out the information and tell all to keep away from the ocean side. It is too dangerous."

"We will send messengers right away. There has been a council called in a few hours. All the generals will be there."

"Thank you Commander Alinor." Eragon leapt up into Saphira's saddle and they both left for their tent. He had tactics to plan, all of which had to do with placement.

_Eragon?_ The Rider felt a familiar conscious arise in his mind.

_Arya, how was your rest? _

_Relaxing, I read you note. Where are you now?_

_Saphira and I have just put the pike system in place. _Eragon landed and entered the tent. Arya was sitting up casually on the mattress. Her eyes were a striking green, and her mouth was curved into a smile. She knew, she always knew the effect she had on him. Eragon took his now dried armor and sword off. He did not bother to dry his hair. It was a little moist, but still clamped together from the water that had not evaporated yet. He laid down on the other side of the mattress, his head rested on the pillow and he gazed up at her.

"Glaedr-elda told us that it was getting close to sea serpent breeding time. It would be far too dangerous to place the system in if we waited for the peak of it. Good thing as well, after we put in place, Saphira spotted a large one a hundred miles off. Season will begin soon."

Arya had a worried look on her face. "Will the system stay?"

"Yes, hopefully, and if it does not then the ships will have a hard time getting past the sea serpents anyway."

She nodded and laid down once again. She curved her arm around his waist and pulled the blanket over the both of them.

"Sleepy again?"

Her lips curved into a smile again. Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet hard to miss in a crowd, "It is very relaxing here."

Eragon's hands played absently with the dark raven tresses of her hair. He seemed unaware that he was running his hands through, as if it was instinct, second nature or a sort, "Saphira and I were talking of the same thing. But we deemed it about a thousand years until we would be able to settle down in peace here, that is only if you want."

"I would like that very much, but why so long?"

"Little things like rebuilding Vroengard on my side, and for you ruling the elves, and then having children to rule eventually, after that making sure everyone can function without us, and then we can settle down elsewhere."

Arya frowned, "Must you be so practical."

"Why what was your plan?"

"One hundred years to rebuild Vroengard, and approximately one hundred and fifty to rule and have children."

"Do you think of that a lot? Children, I mean?"

She frowned, wondering when she began to think of those matters. However, her frown did not last long under her mate's watch. He slowly smoothed the lines of her face out as she gave an answer, "Honestly, I do now. I did ever since I visited Katrina and Roran. She in entering the last stages of pregnancy, and I am quite anxious to see the little one. It may not be in my conscious thoughts, but I have noticed myself look upon children more frequently. What of you?"

"I like children, although I never pictured myself as a father. That being said, I do love children."

"I noticed. You seem to play with them a lot. I remember you entertaining them once on a day off you had. They were playing a game where they kicked a ball around. You joined them and you used magic to make it a bit more interesting too. It was very amusing, you really are great with children."

Eragon smiled at her, he leaned over and stopped centimeters from her lips, "How many do you want?"

"Most elves have one child, if any."

"We are not most elven couples. How many children do _you_ want?"

"Two, three if we have twins. I always wanted a bigger family. Apparently my mother did too, but she lost Father before she could have had another child."

Eragon's face became serious again. He kissed her, willing her pain away, "I am sorry Arya."

"The memories I had of him are not painful at all Eragon. Not anymore at least. It was almost like he knew that one day a prince would come. That you would come."

"I am hardly a prince."

"No," she pondered his words, "no, I suppose you are not a prince. You are far more than some pompous elf noble of some house who puts great emphasis on appearance and less on matters of the heart. Believe me you are far greater. My mother wished for a prince, and I received a Rider sworn the protect the land he loves so much."

"And the princess he loves so much." Arya smiled again, and she clasped her hands around Eragon's neck. She brought his face closer to hers again and captured his lips.

She pulled away, her lips slightly swollen, "Eragon, do you honestly believe it will be ten centuries before we are able to peacefully live?"

"I do not know Arya. But I do believe that every moment of however long it takes will be worth it as we will be together. We made a promise not to part, and so we shall not."

Arya kept silent, not wanting to ruin the peaceful quiet by unnecessary talk. Eragon seemed to understand this, for seconds later, he pulled the blanket over and held his arms firmly around her. They lay, entwined in each other's embrace until a loud knock on their wooden plank sounded.

Grumbling as he stood up, Eragon lifted the flap of the tent and greeted their interrupter. These were a lot of those lately.

"Shur'tugal, Drottningu, Commander Alinor has sent some food for you. It is nearing nightfall, and he also sends a message."

"Thank you, what is the message?"

"There have been more sighting of sea serpents. We can only assume that breeding season has begun as we have never seen a sea serpent this close before, much less four in a matter of hours. The last of the maps are ready, including one for Arya Drottningu, who will be commanding the company of the elves from Nadindel along with Lord Däthedr. Islanzadi will be commanding the elves she has brought over, they will arrive by nightfall. The only human warriors will be those under General Halton. As for the dwarves, they are some three thousand strong with the arrival of a new company. Freowin, clan chief of the Dûrgrimst Gedthrall has joined the battle with his army as well. Nar Garzhvog has sent a total of five companies from the mountains. They each have leaders of their own, but they are answerable only to you. We are total of nine thousand strong. Elves were sent to the highest cliff, they have reported no signs of ships in the horizon. This is on schedule, however. The generals think it best that we move the rest of the weapons in position tomorrow morning."

"Thank you for your message, and please thank Commander Alinor for his thoughtfulness."

Eragon watched as the messenger bowed and left. The elf was not used to being an errand boy, but it was necessary in times like these. Nasuada had ordered that only those fighting would leave for the ocean, so each general was forced to use their own soldiers to send messages and what not. This particular elf carried off the message with a particular air of superiority. It was easy to see why. He was obviously a honed warrior, skills that matched or exceeded that of an elf. He would be a formidable opponent, yet because of this war, he was forced to run messages. Eragon shoved his thoughts away, they were of little consequence.

He heard the faint sounds of lace being undone. Eragon turned to see Arya step lithely out of her comfortable tunic and into her usual black leather. It was a still material, good for movement and protection. It was a kind of armor in itself, but far more flexible. Arya moved to buckle the last piece, a belt that held many different kinds of weapons, mainly blades and knives, but there was one particular section that was specialized for a bow and arrow. Eragon could tell the belt and her armor were custom made for her.

Padding across the room, the sound muffled by his shoes, he clasped the belt in the back for her. It ran low, lying across her hips, drawing attention to her curvy figure. While the belt was just as stiff, Arya seemed to make it look fluid as it sat rigidly on her body. Locating her sword and other weapons, Arya armed herself. Her sword, a thin blade made for speed and swiftness, was in its normal scabbard and attached to her left side. She had a knife, namely the knife he had given her, and placed it on her right arm. The sheath for the knife had a chain that she attached to a leather link, securing it in place. She pulled a short sword from her pack as well, and attached it to her back. Contemplating whether or not to attach her bow as well, she stared at it. Eragon knew she had decided against it as she placed down on their bed again. She looked up at him.

Eragon had raised his eyebrows long ago. He had a sword…that was the only weapon he carried. Yes, it was a Rider's blade, but it was still one blade. He had just borne witness to his mate pulling out three blades, all sharp and dangerous instruments in their own way and armed herself. She was a walking arsenal. Arya laughed at his reaction.

"You should have known how many weapons I carry Eragon."

"Knowing is one thing, seeing you pull out four different weapons, one by one, is an entirely different thing. It puts things into perspective."

She walked over and curved her arm around his waist, leading him outside. She saw Saphira lying on the ground, watching them."

_Have you eaten Saphira? _

_No, not yet. I will leave soon, I was just conversing with Glaedr-elda of the best way to utilize the sea serpents in the war and possible scenarios where things do not go as planned._

_What have you decided? _

_If the serpents get out of control, to say the least, then I will have to threaten and lead them away from the battle. _

_Saphira, is there no other way?_

_I do not believe so. We cannot kill a sea full of them, and we cannot control them, so we bait ourselves and lead them out. But I do not think that will happen. As long as all two leggers stay away from the ocean, they shall be fine. There shall be no fighting on the grounds with the pikes, so the serpents will not be attacking any of our men. The camp is far back enough that the battle can occur on relatively safe grounds. _

_You are right, perhaps we should move the camp site a bit farther back, just in case. _

_No, it will not be necessary. However, remember that we are fighting on sand. No battle has done so before, and no warrior has fought on sand before either. We would not want any more surprises. I would let the generals know, and perhaps their soldiers could practice fighting and modify their style a bit to match the arena._

_I will let them know tonight when the Queen arrives. Arya and I are just about to eat. _

_Very well, I shall go hunt. And I will meet you at the Queen tent if she arrives before I do. Sit by the ocean today, on a cliff above. There is a nice spot just a quarter mile in the south direction. Arya has yet to truly see it. _

Eragon nodded and Saphira stretched her wings. She bounded towards the sky in no time and headed to find her prey for the night. They walked in silence to the spot Saphira had spoken of. It was a nice ledge, similar to the one overlooking the Burning Plains, but it was far larger and far higher. Eragon estimated a close to five hundred foot drop, enough force to kill anyone. He looked towards the sky, the sun had already set, and darkness was quickly engulfing their surroundings. It was minutes before the moon had reached its peak in the sky. Stars shone, even the moon was full and shone far brighter than the other days Eragon had seen one. The waves instantly rose in answer to the moon's face. The ocean turned from a peaceful clash on the rocks to a tumultuous roar threatening to bring down the very land itself. It reminded him of…

"It's beautiful, is it not?"

Eragon turned his head to the voice, he meant to say that it was, that he agreed with her statement, but all he could do was gaze at her face, illuminated by the light of the moon. The wind seemed to caress away any lines of worry, any stress from her face. The breeze wafted her addicting smell of pinecones toward him, rendering him useless. She slowly turned, her emerald gaze fixing on his own blue stare. He wanted to look away, embarrassed by his obvious lack of control, but something about her, everything about her made it impossible.

When she realized she would not be graced with his strong, perfect voice, she prompted him again, "It reminds of you."

His words barely a whisper, he replied, "How so?"

She shuddered at the sound. Only he could possess the same strength in a whisper and in normal conversation. She wanted to believe it was because of the weak gusts of air shooting through her, but she knew it had everything to do with the man sitting so close, yet so far away from her. How was it possible to feel such a strong desire, and such an aching heart? She suddenly remembered he had asked a question.

"I cannot say, but the ocean just reminds me of you. The blue of water and the depth of your eyes. Its catastrophic, destructive nature protecting its secrets and its inhabitants while relentless attacking its enemies. The peace, the calm, the fresh scent. You smell like it, your scent matches that of an ocean. The fresh water, and the fresh air. Not foresty or murky in a sense at all. But rather liberating. I could not place it before, but I can now."

Eragon smiled. He was about to say that the ocean reminded him of her. The ferocity arising under certain occasions, its perfection, its endless boundaries. But she knew, she knew what was in his mind, she knew everything he thought, and he would not have it any other way.

She whispered in answer, "We make quite a pair, do we not? We find each other in everything."

She felt Eragon lean in and capture her lips with his own. His tongue slipped through her defenses and found her own, engaging it in a savory dance. He had to jusy touch her with any other part of his body and she would be his, but he did not. He simply kissed her, not demanding, and not taking. Just a kiss. He pulled away first, his forehead resting on hers.

They heard voices coming from the camp, announcing the arrival of the Queen and her company. Saphira had yet to return, but she would soon. Eragon knew she was just finishing her meal and would join in them shortly. They slowly made their way over to the Queen's council tent. Saphira flew above them, and stuck her neck through a window. Eragon greeted the Queen in the traditional form, and was greeted back in the same way.

"Now that we are all here and accounted for, I suggest we move to planning where each battalion will be."

Eragon watched as the Queen pulled a map of the ditches and spread across on the table. When no one made a move to strategize with the Elven Queen, Eragon bravely spoke first. He walked over to the map and started to move pieces around.

"The Urgals must be the first line of defense. They are the stronger soldiers, and their appearance will instill fear into our enemies, that is a fact. The dwarves will charge later on in the battle, however in the beginning they will need to man the catapult system. No one will be allowed to this line here-" he pointed to a spot a good twenty five yards from the sea of ditches, "The elves will then flank the Urgals and join with the in the fight, and the humans later on, and the dwarves at the last surge. The sea serpents will feel threatened by the ships, so the water will be quick a ruckus. I sincerely doubt our enemies will go back unscathed. However, because of the sheer size of the army according the records of Galbatorix's scribe, there is still a high chance many Westlanders will be able to set foot on land. The average maximum distance of the catapults is approximately four hundred feet, so when the ships get into that range, they will fire. Because of the distance between the shore and the sea of ditches, that leaves about two hundred or so feet between the shoreline and ships to start firing. The company under the command of Arya Drottningu and Lord Däthedr will flank the left, and those under Queen Islanzadi's command will be to the right. Those in Commander Alinor's shall be back and center. The Urgals in my command will be left to their leaders, but will stay in the middle as the welcoming party. Saphira and I will fight alongside the Urgals in the first attempt on land to hold them off. General Halton's men will join next under three circumstances. One, at least forty minutes should pass in the battle. Two, the enemy advances past this line, or three they bring out more soldiers in an answer to a losing battle. The dwarves catapult system will be modified as the enemies grow closer, therefore they shall be in the back firing their weapons until they run out or the catapults are of little use."

Eragon finished maneuvering the pieces on the map and looked up at the generals. He was waiting for some kind of approval. The Queen was first to speak.

Caustically referring to his plan, the Queen said, "Well, that was one person's take on the situation. Do we have any others?"

Eragon could tell the Queen was looking for some kind of disapproval, any kind. He did not think it would matter if the person insulted the condition of his hair, but that the person simply spoke against him. When no one raised his or her hands in disapproval, the Queen's gaze hardened. Her teeth clenched, and her jaw line remained rigid in a kind of stubbornness.

"Very well, this shall be the plan we will abide by until changes are required."

The generals nodded, and slowly filed out. Commander Alinor, General Halton, and General Huvin all gave a small smile to Eragon before turning to the Queen and walking out. The only people who remained were himself, Arya, Queen Islanzadi, and Lord Däthedr.

"Arya, my daughter, how are you?"

Arya's reply was terse, short, cold, just as her mother's tone of voice was. She was not letting go of her grudge if her mother was not.

"Fine, thank you."

"Well then, I shall leave you two friends to catch up. Come Eragon, walk with me."

Eragon looked at Arya quizzically, but he remained still otherwise. She did not look up, but she made no move to shut her mind from his. The best move would be to walk with her mother, and leave Däthedr and Arya there. They were friends after all. With a quick bow to Lord Däthedr, he allowed himself to be pulled away from Arya, but not before sending a loving caress through her mind. She looked at him as he was lead out of the room, and she smiled.

"How have you been Eragon?"

The Rider looked at the speaker, _a stubborn woman_, he mused.

"Quite well, Your Highness, and how have you been since this morning?"

The Queen made no notion to answer. She quickly switched the topic.

"Are you positive of these plans of yours? We cannot afford this to be a wild chase. We have not the time or resources."

"I am positive this battle will occur soon."

"In the council, you said from Galbatorix's scribe, how did that happen?"

"I went on a mission to Uru'baen. I discovered the secrets of the relationship between the Empire and the Westlanders, and found two new drugs and poisons. The records I was shown were given to me by the scribe. However, due to an unfortunate turn of events, I had to take his life."

"Did Arya accompany you?"

"No."

"Then you are putting her up into a tower, protecting her."

"No, that was not the reason either. Arya had things to be taken care of, namely overseeing the construction and the arrangements for all the new soldiers. She was also balancing the different races and their differences, easing over their disagreements. That being said, I did not want her to come for the reason of her protection. But had she insisted, then she would have come."

"You would have let her come?"

"I do not _let_ Arya do anything. She does what she wants, even if I like it or not. She would have come if she felt strongly that the best option was that two people undertake the mission. But she believed it was a one person job, and so she let me go alone."

"Is this how you knew of Faolin?"

"Yes."

"Why would you tell her? It dumbfounds me that you would risk putting your relationship on the edge when she means so much to you."

"It is because she means so much to me that I would not lie to her about things like that. Yes, it hurt, it still hurts. But I would never consider betraying her. If Faolin's death truly ended our relationship, then so be it. I would still love her, and that love is what keeps me going." Eragon was surprised at how honest his words were. He prided himself on revealing little about himself, but something about telling the truth in this situation made him believe the Queen would be more willing to agree to their relationship.

"You are an interesting man Eragon. It is hard, yet so easy to see why she fell for a man like you."

Eragon did not respond, his thoughts wandered back to Arya's growing unease in his mind.

She stared after him when he left, giving a small, feeble smile. She turned around and faced Lord Däthedr.

"Däthedr, how are you?"

"Quite well, Arya Drottningu, and yourself?"

"I am doing very well thank you."

"I am quite happy for you and the young Rider."

Arya could not have been certain, but she thought she heard an emphasis on the word 'young' from her old friend. Däthedr was a master of masking his intentions, it was what made him the most notable diplomat. Arya could never tell when he was lying or when he was not.

"Thank you, Däthedr."

"Though I must say, I am surprised that you have mated with him in such a short amount of time."

"I hardly think two years, given the circumstances, is a short amount of time."

Arya was slightly more forceful with her words. This was not the Däthedr she remembered. That man was always kind, riddlelike, but kind. Something was off.

"The Queen does not like your relationship." Lord Däthedr looked away, as if some huge burden was lifted from his eyes. So that was it, his unwavering loyalty to the throne had stressed his opinion of her.

"I came to terms a long time ago, that she does not agree with many things that I have done."

"But all of those were for the better, this one is more so for yourself."

"Are you implying, Lord Däthedr, that I cannot pursue my own happiness?"

"Well…no I suppose not. Forgive me Arya, I am not myself today." The stoic elf walked out of her mother's tent. Eragon had yet to return, so Arya made her way back to their tent. The conversation was rather unnerving. As abrupt and unusual it had been, it seemed like Däthedr was hiding something from her. _Did he know of Faolin?_ Arya pondered over the conversation, especially his last claim that her relationship with Eragon was personal in nature. Of course it had been, it was an entirely personal decision, it had to have been. And why was that something to be at fault for?

Eragon walked with the Queen for a bit longer.

"You see, Eragon. I do not, not any longer, have a problem with your relationship with my daughter. However, you do see the problem with it. Arya is in line for the throne, she is only one in line for the throne. Her child will be the ruler after her. And if she is with you, her child will be…half human."

Eragon stopped and faced the Queen, daring her to speak anymore.

"We would not have a problem with your relationship if it was not so. We have a solution, that I am positive you might be alright with. Let Arya have one of her children by another elf, let a pure blooded elf become the ruler, and then you can live however you want to."

The Rider raised his eyes, capturing the Queen's with his own. He could not place his emotions, not with a wave of anger seething through his mind.

The Queen continued, "We have chosen Lord Däthedr for that task."

Tempted to throw her off to the ground or run and throw the other elf to the ground, Eragon concentrated on calming his mind. He spoke clearly, enunciating, baiting.

"You should know the truth of my birth. My father is Brom, his father is Vrael, and his father is Anurin. I am an elf, I have more elven blood in me then you think. The only difference is that I am also half human, not fully human. My mother was a human. But more than elf or human, I am the last descendent of the Grey Folk. I can will the child to have the elven blood of me or the human blood of me. Our children will be the most powerful to walk these lands. Your thoughts are baseless. Know this, Queen, Arya is my mate, and I will not allow you to put her in such a painful position."

Eragon turned and stalked off. He was angry, and his anger was unmatchable at this point.

Arya sat in the tent, on the edge of the mattress, trying to discern why Däthedr was so uncomfortable. What ever he was thinking of, he did not say it to her. Arya heard quickened footsteps and soon Eragon burst in the tent. He was pacing up and down, a caged animal. Anger was radiating off of him, his eyes were a maniacal blue, threatening to burn anything in its way. Alarmed at his uncharacteristic imbalance, Arya rose and laid a gentle hand on his back. He seemed to calm.

"Arya, did Däthedr speak with you?"

"Yes, but I suspect he did not speak with me as he intended to do."

"Then I shall be brief. Your mother wants a fully blooded elven heir from you, to take over the throne after you. Because I am your mate, she believes that is impossible, so she asked Däthedr to have a child with you, and that child would be the heir to throne."

Arya's fingers curled against his back. Her nails dug into his tunic and she looked down. She said nothing. Eragon slowly turned and faced her.

"I told your mother the truth of my ancestry. The Grey Folk, and how the child can be a mix of us, or I can alter what genes I pass on so the child could be fully elven or still some three quarters elven and quarter human. But that decision is yours alone. Even though I made it clear that I would not let anyone put you through that much pain, it is not my choice to make."

Arya leaned in, her forehead rested on his chest and her arms were tightly grasping his waist. She lightly nipped his jaw, a slight reprimand for even thinking she could go through with it.

"No, I will not have a child by anyone else. It is nothing less than rape in my eyes. Unwanted intercourse, that is all it will be. I cannot believe my mother would go to such lengths. I cannot believe it…"

He had heard enough. All he wanted was her distress gone. "Ssh, it will all be alright. There is no need to even think of the matter anymore. Just sleep tonight, it is late."

Eragon picked her up and moved her to their bed. He removed her weapons from her body, and her stiff leather armor. He covered in the first tunic he could find, one of his own, and then moved to remove his weapons and shirt as well. He curled into the mattress and curved his body around his mate's. Arya turned to face him, and she placed her arms against his broad chest.

"Eragon?"

He was already feeling the drowsiness of a long day take over him, "Hmm?"

"I shall speak with my mother tomorrow, and end her attempts to pull us apart, or I will end my relationship with her."

Eragon fluttered his eyes open, slightly alarmed at her words. "Arya, forgive me, but I do not think ending your relationship with your mother is a good thing."

She opened her mouth to contradict him, but he held up a hand and continued, "She is your mother, that bond between mother and children is a rare one. One that I never had the privilege of having. She loves you, she believes that whatever pain she is putting you through now, will be less than the pain you will go through if we are together. The Queen does not believe that I am worthy of you. I cannot blame her for it for even I do not believe I deserve you, but that is the underlying motivation for her actions, flawed as they may be."

"She hurt you the most Eragon, suggesting that I sleep with another man. As much as you do not like to see me hurt, I abhor seeing you in pain."

"Nay, more than me, she hurt you. I do not own you Arya, I never have and I never will. You are free to do as you please, even if it means sleeping with another man. But suggesting that you be with another man that you do not love hurts you."

The elf remained silent. Truthfully, this latest action of her mother's was the farthest the Queen had gone to ruin her peace of mind. Arya sometimes wished that she were never the heir to the throne, wished that she would never have to deal with the Queen as her mother. But she knew, had she not been the princess, the war would have never taken a turn in their direction. If Arya was of no royal background, the Queen would not have paid her words any heed and the elves would remain deep within their forest. Did Arya regret her choices? No, her choice was always hers to make, she could not regret decisions she made.

"You amaze me iet Drottningu."

She brought from her thoughts back to the present time. Tilting her head to one side, she studied her mate. His face – far from delicate. He did not have the fragility of an elven face. Not a smooth stone, rather built with the constant forces that mold rock. Pressure, waves, erosion, whatever was natural was his face. His face, his beautiful face, had the lines of stress a warrior of his status would have. The thick eyebrows, long eyelashes, a horridly stubborn chin, and a strong jaw line. There was little boyish charm about him, not anymore at least. He had outgrown, in a matter of months, what most took years to outgrow. But his smile had not changed. In all his maturity, his mellowed face, his smile had to appear for a fleeting second and it could turn his entire intimidating demeanor back to the boy who loved without bounds, the boy who knew little violence, and even less anger. His smile made her believe that beneath the tortured man, the hardened warrior, there was still the boy who was naïve enough to believe…in anything, in a world without war, in a world where Riders would once again bring peace, in the unity of four strikingly different races…in her, in a broken princess sentenced to live a life under a mother who understood her little and tried even less.

It took Arya awhile to realize she had not responded to Eragon's statement. Yet he understood, a man she had known for less than two years understood her better than her late mate for seventy years or her mother who had watched her since the day she was born some hundred years ago. She looked up at her Rider, her one solace. Arya had no idea what she could say to Eragon's statement, her mind was so distraught she could not complete a comprehensible thought.

Immediately she felt Eragon's loving presence sweep through her mind. He saw, felt, and understood. He calmed her, mentally with soothing emotions coupled with the raised volume of the music of his soul which he knew she loved so much, and physically with one arm tight around her body, pressing her to him, and the other hand stroking her hair in loving gestures. Arya fell asleep to the sounds of his soul. A place where waves met land in harmony, where they washed up to clean the sand from onlookers feet, and then receded back towards the depths they came from. The sound of a gently breeze whisking through the air carried the notes of a flute playing in the distance. As she listened more and more, the sounds of the flute became stronger, and soon she could not separate the union of the sea, wind, and music. She settled in his arms, her mind protected by his, and soon gave herself into a deep sleep. Arya never remembered that she had yet to respond to Eragon's observation.

The sun rose, shining through the curtains of the tent. Eragon was forced awake from the rays beating relentlessly against his face. He immediately warmed to the feeling. Glancing at Arya, he saw she was still asleep. Apart from the occasional movements, she had a relatively undisturbed sleep. No thoughts of her mother entered her mind. He listened for the commotion outside. Sounds of warriors walking the grounds were most prominent, but there seemed nothing out of ordinary. That being said, no one had sent for them. Saphira was still asleep outside the tent. There was plenty of space surrounding their tent so she could sleep comfortably without fear of intruding on the surrounding space of the races. Eragon ran his fingers through the raven silky strands he grew to love so much. Arya stirred awake, her elven senses taking over as she felt Eragon slowly rouse her. When Arya was more awake, Eragon moved his hand away from her silky strands and rested it on her body.

"Please, do not stop." A silent plea escaped Arya. It was a long time since she could feel the tension physically ease from her body. A massage was always easy to have as a princess, unfortunately, as an ambassador, the opportunities for a good head massage were scarce.

Eragon caught the fleeting thoughts of how massages were in Ellesmera. He immediately brought both his hands to the back of her head and slowly applied pressure on her scalp. The Rider could not ever get enough of running his hands through her hair, but he was always afraid he would hurt her. His hands were rough. Scars, bruises, calluses from battles and overuse simply covered them. Eragon had no idea what his unscarred hands would look like, the only thing he could see were the millions of markings marring their true appearance. He never cared, they were hands of a warrior, and Eragon was one. He had no reason to deny what he was, and his hands were a testament to that. But now, when his mate needed smooth, firm hands to ease her tension, did he wish his marred ones were replaced with more delicate skin.

"Iet Shurtugal, I do not want smooth hands. Your rough, experienced hands are far more pleasing." Arya still had not opened her eyes. She was still basking in the feeling of a head massage. Eragon's hand roved over her scalp, gently digging and scraping across the surface in a soothing motion. His hands left her head, and moved down to her neck and shoulders. Her muscles were tight, tighter than normal. She did not doubt that if she performed the Rimgar, her performance would be severely hindered by the inflexibility. The stress from the war, the battles she had fought without proper preparation or not making the efforts to keep her muscles in tact from the aftermath had taken its toll. Her stress centered on her shoulders, rendering her in a constant, dull pain. Eragon's hands moved over her shoulders, gentle, yet not. He was firm in his will to make her muscles relax. This massage was far harder than her other ones, but it was much more pleasurable. Arya could feel the knots in her muscles untangle underneath her mate's strong hands.

When Eragon was satisfied that her muscles were relaxed, he brought his hands down on her back, holding her tightly. Knowing he needed the contact, Arya brought her arms around his neck. Her head was underneath his chin, resting comfortably. She loved waking up in the morning. Before, she had no motivation besides a future she did not know could survive. Now, now she lived for the present more than she lived for the unknown future. She lived to wake up to him, spend the day with him, live with him. She had a real reason, real tangible motivation. A steady heart, a loving heart to reside in.

The rays were stronger now, the gales of the sea seemed to brighten even the sun. Eragon thought back to last night. It was not his place, but he could not help but feel anger. He believed his explanation of their relationship would suffice for the Queen, but apparently, it had not. He was amazed that Arya could deal with her mother. If his had been remotely like hers, Eragon doubted he could reconcile with her. Yet Arya chose to ignore her mother's actions and continued to do her own duty. Admirable, there was no doubt.

Motioning that they had spent far too long in bed, Arya moved to lift herself up. The blanket fell from her lithe body as she stood on the cold covered floor. Using magic to clean herself, she equipped her usual leather armor and weapons shortly after. She turned towards Eragon, who had since mimicked her actions and was dressed in his battle garb as well. She gave him a quick kiss, a mere press against his lips and pulled back.

"I am leaving to speak with my mother. I am not entirely sure as to how long it will take, so do not wait for me. I shall seek you out when I have finished."

Eragon nodded in response before elaborating, "I shall most likely be with the soldiers. We need to get them accustomed to fighting in sand."

They left the tent together, Arya went towards her mother's tent, and Eragon greeted Saphira. He took to the skies and sought out the leaders' tent. Upon arriving, he was immediately greeted by the Generals, along with the Urgals commanders. Not wanting to waste time, he began immediately.

"As we all know, this battle is on a beach. The sand provides a problem for us, as we have never fought on it before. I would like to take the soldiers out, regiment by regiment and practice sparring on the ground. Can you spare some of your soldiers at a time for this?"

The generals nodded their approval, and so Eragon continued, "Very well, thank you for your cooperation. I would like to take the elves and the dwarves who have recently arrived first, as they are least accustomed to the environment. Then the Urgals, humans, and the dwarves and elves originally here shall follow. It will mostly likely take two days, right until the time of the battle. If everything is as planned, we would have forth night to rest before the enemies arrive. Have the elves sighted anything yet?"

Commander Alinor was the first to answer, "While the coast remains clear to elven sights, we have sent some birds out farther than we could see, and they have reported sights of oncoming ships. We can only assume they mean these ships. With the flight of the birds and their speed, we have calculated that the ships will arrive on schedule or slightly later, we have signs of the winds shifting back towards the West."

Nodding to his words, Eragon gave one last sweep of the room. He lingered his eyes on Lord Däthedr in an expressionless stare before he strode out of the tent, Rider as he was. If Lord Däthedr showed any signs of embarrassment at his lack of judgment to his Queen's blind request, he hid it well. Eragon's thoughts floated back to Arya. Her mind was deep in his, giving him clues on her emotions, but no outright communication. He could tell she was distressed to say the least, but he knew better than barge in on things Arya needed to take care of. Perhaps this would be the last time the Queen would suggest something so, desperately unethical.

He waited in the sand, a good half-mile away from the field of death traps. The first company of dwarves and elves arrived on target. Eragon instructed them to find a sparring partner, spread out, and duel as best as they could. The elves were, to no surprise, perfectly balanced and capable of fighting on any land. The dwarves on the other hand, had a bit of trouble with footing, but regained their stoic composure and fought just as well. The sparring last a half-hour before he dismissed the group, citing no qualms with their performance. He repeated the procedure until all the companies of elves and dwarves had been introduced to the new arena.

It was a tedious job, but he needed to think of the soldier's welfare. They were, after all, fighting for him. He wondered if he knew any of the elves. These companies were not accompanied by their commanders, but there was a good chance that he had at least met some of the leaders during the Blood-Oath Celebration. Eragon sighed as the Urgals came, their training would be much more difficult to go through. He had their respect, but not their language under control. He knew only basic commands. Nevertheless, Eragon got his message across and the Urgals began sparring as well. Many times, Eragon had to break up a fight that had amounted into something much more than a simple sparring match. He decided he would take a different approach in the next company.

Arya thought back to her walk from her tent to her mother's. Her mind was surprisingly blank. It was almost as if she had nothing to say, or nothing she could say. She seemingly believed that whatever needed to be said, had been said already. She hardly wanted to be her mother's beloved bird Blagden, repeating sentences over and over, when the other party either could not understand or had not the desire to understand. Her task was becoming far more tedious. But here, in her mother's tent, gazing in her calculating eyes, Arya chided herself for not coming more prepared. It was here, alone with her mother, where she was the most uncomfortable.

_You are never alone, iet Drottningu_.

He was right. No matter how their tasks distanced them, she would never be alone. Eragon would be with her, if not in the physicality, at least in her mind, in his essence, he would always be there. She sent her gratitude, and focused on her mother.

"I need to speak with you."

"I figured as much Arya. What would you like to talk about?"

"What is concerning this much about my mate and I, that you would stoop to the levels of suggesting I sleep with another man for the sake of the throne?"

The Queen was silent, as if calculating her next move. Yet Arya was unrelenting. For once, she needed the truth, not some masked answer from her mother.

"Do not bide your time mother, thinking of an answer that reveals nothing and asks even more. I am not here to justify my relationship with Eragon. I love him, you know that. I grow tired of repeating myself."

"I will admit, I never really wanted you to sleep with another man. I did however, hope that in light of the fact that your mate is human, you would reconsider for the sake of duty, considering duty is the reason you separated yourself from me seventy years ago."

"I separated myself from you? How can you be so blind? I left because you banished me. Did you think I was not hurt? I was in pain from the moment my father died because of this war. I was in pain when I realized that my mother, when I needed her most, packaged me off for the next twenty some years. I studied with Oromis, and in my knowledge I discovered that action was the best course to rectify the past. Cowering in the forest in grief was not the proper action. Moving forward with purpose, moving towards the make the right the wrongs in the world was right thing to do. Father believed that, and because he did, I took on his quest to seek it, hoping that somehow his essence would live on, that his spirit would live on. But that was not to be so, you made sure of that."

"Blinded, yes Arya, I was blinded. I still am blinded. I was blinded by love when I mated with your father. I loved him more than you could imagine. I loved him as much as you love your mate, if not more. I never wanted to be dependent on anyone, yet I was quickly becoming dependent on him. I needed him, I craved him, he was the light to my day, the moon to my night. And then you came, and you were perfect. We loved you like we had never loved each other. You were the most beautiful, most carefree child. And then I lost your father. I lost him to this war, and I vowed that I would never lose my daughter to it. I was still blind, blind by my love for you. I hoped to ease the tension in you, help you forget who your father was by sending you to Oromis. You believed you needed me? I needed you far more. I needed my daughter to smile, I needed her to dance and sing like I used to before my love was taken from me. The worst about being immortal is that you can never forget. There is no moving on, only moving forward with the past."

The Queen paused, as if trying to see where the next best lead to her story would go. Islanzadi was just an uncomfortable, it had been close to century since she truly explained her emotions.

"When you showed signs of going to the Varden, helping Brom in his plan to bring down the Empire, I feared like I had never before. I searched, far and wide, for an elven man suitable for you, yet able to tie you here. I found him, Faolin. I wanted him to court you, and he did, and he succeeded, but he could not tame you. Binding you with the symbol of mates did not stop you. And so, I banished you in fear that if I lost you, I would not have lost a daughter. But I could not stand it. Years later, when you arrived home, a Rider by your side, I cared not for him. I was simply happy that you were safe. Now, now you are mated with him. And now you would willingly give your life for his, and there is nothing I can do about it. I wanted you far away from the gruesomeness of war. I hoped this new trick of mine would tear you apart, but it did not work. Just as the information of Faolin's death did not work either. He was perfect for you, and you seemed to know it. Eragon told me that he would protect your life with his own, but he also said he would protect your right to be free, to be yourself, to be independent, with his own life as well. He was the man I feared you would fall for, a man just like your father. Loving and understanding to a fault. I know that both of you may live when this war is over, but I know that one of you may pass on as well, and my daughter hurt again…that I could not bear."

"Why have you never told me this mother? I would have…done something."

"I will not ask you to leave him, I cannot do so. If your love is anything like mine, then it cannot be separated. Leave me now, go find your mate and tell him what I have told you. Though I suspect he already knows."

Arya made a step towards her mother, as if trying to discern whether or not years of pain could be forgotten by one embrace. Her mother did not face her, but neither did Arya move away.

"Arya, my daughter? If you can find it in you, forgive me."

The princess crossed the room and embraced her mother. A tight hug, one far more loving than those of previous.

"I understand mother. I do not presume to have understood before, but I do now."

A tear leaked from the Queen's face, just one, just a small slip of an outward emotion so carefully kept in check from centuries of experience. Perhaps, just perhaps, even severe mistakes could be forgotten. If it had not been for the war, her mother and her would never have gotten in such a horrid tuff, and they would never had achieved the level of understanding they had now. The princess only hoped she would never have to go through what her mother had for so long. Tied to a child, tied to her mate, yet never able to see him again. Sentenced to a life of faithful loneliness. Duties preventing leaving the life to join him, love pining to be rejoined.

But this was not a time for such aberrant thoughts. Her mate was still alive, her Rider, her love was well and still hers. And she longed to see him again. Arya squeezed her mother one last time before breaking away with a genuine smile. She erupted from the tent, lighter, happy, stress free, and immediately sought out Eragon's whereabouts.

_Eragon, love, where are you? _

_Iet Drottningu, it is good to hear from you, and to hear you are in blissful spirits. I am half a mile from the shore, just on the brink of camp. I have just begun the training of the Urgals. It is not going as expected, then again, I do not have the control over the language I would like. Most of my words have gone through translators that, frankly, are not the most adept with words. Are you coming here?_

_Yes, I think I shall._

_Stay where you are, Saphira said she would be there shortly. She is getting quite bored with my occupied company. _

_Of course, has she left yet? _

_Of course I have little princess, I could not stand much more of offensive yelling and brash clanging of metals. _

Arya was covered in shade as the massive body of the sapphire dragon blocked the sun from her view. When Saphira had landed, Arya greeted her properly, affectionately as per their relationship. During the time Eragon had left, they found comfort in each other's presence more than before. Luckily, once Eragon had returned, both Saphira and herself kept that bond.

She swung into Saphira's saddle and braced herself for her ascent. The beautiful dragon had to fly but a few minutes to Eragon's position, but during that time, they had conversed of little things. Saphira showed great concern over the matter of her mother. Seeing as she had nothing to hide, Arya had opened up rather completely. It was uncharacteristic of her, yet she was changing. The princess was grateful to have two personalities she could spill her deepest secrets to and never fear rejection. She had a strange suspicion she would never be judged by them. It was something to revel in and fear.

_Oh Arya, the reason we would never judge is because we know you are not capable of such acts. It is one of many reasons we care much for you. _

Arya sent the equivalence of a smile through their link before realizing they were seconds away from Eragon. She quickly located her mate in the crowd. He was dressed in his armor, the new armor granted from the Grey Folk. It was a strange mix of blue and gray. Fluid, a perfect fit for him, and much more suited to his water like movements on the battlefield. His flexibility was increased greatly without heavy metal weighing him down. But what caught her eye the most was the handsome face staring back at her. He had obviously tried in vain to stop a rather extravagant Urgal from picking a fight with his comrade. His hair was slightly disheveled, and sweat beaded from his face, falling down his muscular neck deep into the crevices she found so appealing. She dismounted quickly and strode over to her enthralled mate. He had seemingly forgotten his training was on the brink of chaos.

Sweeping past him, determined to make him feel the same desire she was pining for as soon as she set her gaze on him, Arya did not give him a glance. Rather she spoke commands to the Urgals. Immediately responding to her words, they stood straight. When she issued her next command, they looked to their leaders for approval. When it was granted, they moved back into formation with which Arya had the leaders go through fighting steps to help them gain their footing.

Not once did she feel Eragon's gaze leave her, and not once did she grant him a glance. It was close to noon. A runner had left a message that lunch was being served to their quarters in a matter of minutes. Saphira had since left to check the status of the breeding season of the sea serpents along with Glaedr-elda.

Arya nodded her approval of the message and started for their tent. She could feel Eragon's steps closely behind her, as if contemplating whether or not to charge after her. It was wrong, what she was doing. Baiting him like this, on the edge of a war. But she became just as breathless. Arya entered the tent, anticipating his swift entrance. When she heard the swoosh of the tent flap, Arya turned around, straight into his arms and his demanding lips.

Eragon crashed his mouth to hers. He was desperate for her. Never had he felt such a strong desire, he felt out of control, completely lost in her tricks. His hands roved over body, as her own found their way to grip tightly the locks of his head. His lips left her mouth and trailed down her neck and ears. All the princess could do was clutch his head to her body as he took what was rightfully his.

A knock sounded through their tent. Eragon stopped his assault, groaning at the interruption. He lifted his head, kissing his mate one last, leisurely time before answering. The food…it was the damned food that kept him away from his love. But that was for the best. The battle was near, and if their presence were needed soon, it would be better if they were not in such a compromising position.

Arya smiled and walked up to his lean built frame. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head between his shoulder blades. Truth be told, Arya desired nothing more than a few days in some remote cave along the beach side undisturbed with her mate. However, that was not to be the case. Eragon rested his hands over hers, caressing them lightly. He brought the food to the bed and took his armor off. As comfortable as it was, it was made for battle, not moving around in their home. He left some of the attaching straps underneath, but he took most of it off. He laid himself on the bed, opened a bottle of faelnirv and did not even bother pouring it into a glass.

He looked at his princess, who had since raised an eyebrow as his obvious lack of chivalry.

"Forgive me, I was far too tired to be bothered by pouring a glass."

Her laughter filled the air, sealing his eyes shut and sending his ears souring.

"I have no problem with that, Eragon. Frankly, I find the deeds of the chivalrous rather mundane. I have already been courted, we need not separate each other's space."

Arya glided to the bed and laid herself next to him. His shoulder was the perfect place for her head to rest on. Taking advantage of it, she nestled down next to him. She drank deeply from the bottle, surprised at how thirsty she truly was.

Eragon never took her eyes off of her. He knew of what transpired between her and her mother, but it was still a matter to discuss.

"How are things with your mother?"

"Better, no doubt." Arya sighed contentedly, "What matters is that she will no longer try and separate us. She will leave us in peace."

"Iet Drottningu, it would not matter whether she would accept us. I will be with you no matter what you decide. How is your relationship with your mother?"

Arya smiled. Of course her mate would think of her relationship with her mother versus their relationship. Her problems were much more important than their problems. But she seemed to think that their problems always took priority. Perhaps she should be considered shallow, placing more importance on her mate than on her mother. She did not think to elaborate on their reconciliation. Rather, the outstanding thought was that her mother would no longer trouble their relationship. She looked down guiltily. Was that all her mother's confession meant to her? That she could be with Eragon. Is that all she cared about? What if it was? What then? Was there something wrong with it?

_Iet __evarínya nuanen, you have a thousand questions running through your mind and I think on all at once. _

Eragon gazed down with bemused eyes. Only his mate would find a way to criticize herself in the happiest of moments.

Arya did not trust her voice, it was far too jumbled.

_Then answer one at a time. _

_Very well. It is no wrong to think of your mate first with news like this. It is natural even. Had I received news like that, my first thoughts would be of you as you are the most important person in my life. Our parents are only a small fraction of our lives, yet their children are the most important in their lives. Your first thoughts were to your changing life, the person you will spend the rest of your life with. When we have children, our first thoughts will be to their health and happiness, not our own, and certainly not to our parents. It is the natural order of things. You have reconciled with your mother, but you have not ignored her completely. While the thoughts as of now, with me, are that you can be with me in peace, your thoughts when you left were filled with your mother. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with you, nuanen. _

Arya remained silent, unsure whether her mind was ready to give up the search to these complicated questions. But it did no good to dwell on them either.

"Glaedr-elda told me a lot about you."

The elf stole a glance at her mate. His cerulean blue eyes were staring back at her, tints of happiness and love shining from them.

"What did he say?"

"More of your father, your relationship with Oromis-elda, feelings toward me."

"Do you blame me?" Arya's voice was barely above a whisper. He knew that she had loved him all along – meaning he knew she had a way to keep him from his nightmares, yet she ignored it. She ignored his needs, and still claimed she loved him. She had a way to heal him, and she did not take it for her own selfish purposes.

Eragon kissed the top of her head. He lingered far longer, nuzzling the top of her head.

"There is nothing to blame you for. You did what was right. Arya, I was not the man I am when I pursued you that night. It was for the better."

"Even then, even then you knew me. And it was my fear of it that I rejected you."

"It does not matter to me. I had no intention of bringing back disturbing memories iet Drottningu. I only wanted to tell you of my conversation with Glaedr-elda of you. We talked of many other things as well. Oromis-elda's past, my father. Things like that. I only wanted to inform you. For some inexplicable reason, speaking of you, of how you were before I met you, makes me ecstatic. Is it not strange?"

"I suppose not. When I spoke of you with Roran and Katrina, and your people from Carvahall, I had a similar feeling. Pure bliss was the only description I could find it."

Eragon's mouth curved into a smile. "The only explanation I can find is that I love you."

His princess turned in his arms. For some reason, no matter how many times she heard it uttered from his lips, she would never tire from hearing that he loved her. Every time he said, "I love you" it sent shivers down her spine, and her heart racing. It could have been in the middle of a battle, in their bed, even in the middle of a public setting, his words would render the same effect.

If Eragon noticed her movement, he made no sign of it.

"The elves under Commander Alinor have informed him that there are ships less than two days away. We have all of tomorrow, but the battle will commence close to the morning of the second day. If there are any last minute changes, today and tomorrow are the last days to do so."

Eragon waited for some reply from his mate, but she remained frightfully silent. He could only deduce she meant to prolong that time as far as possible.

"The elves in your command will be the second force to send out. The Queen's soldiers will be the first to help the Urgals, then yours, followed by Commander Alinor's men. If we need to switch soldiers around to even out the numbers, than we shall. The five companies of Urgals shall be the opening force. I will be in front there. If the sea is not as tumultuous, then Saphira and I will try something to upset the sea serpents." Then more to himself than her, he muttered, "I should look over the placement of the ditches, it would be better to memorize them, just in case we do have to cross that line."

He moved away from the bed in an effort to search for the map, but he was quickly stopped by a soft hand on his knee. He looked down at it, and then at its master.

"What is it Arya?"

"Under what circumstances will you deem necessary to cross that line?"

"I am not sure, but it is better to be safe than sorry."

"Promise me that just because you know the layout, you will not take unnecessary risks."

"Arya, th-"

"Promise me!...please Eragon."

Lifting his hand to stroke her cheek, he rested his palm against her left side, his thumb gently moving back and forth.

"I promise." Eragon replied in the binding Ancient Language. There was little he could deny her, and even less he would even try to deny.

"Arya, we should head out soon. The Urgals will be waiting for me, there are still the last four companies to get through tonight. I would also like to go through General Halton's men. And tomorrow, the last of the dwarves and elves, although that company is considerable larger than the ones today. Late afternoon tomorrow…that should be the ending time of the training. Does that time sound right?"

"That sounds about right. I will run down by the others, and see if there are any qualms."

They steadily rose from their positions, donning their armor. Saphira had since returned.

_Little ones, have you eaten well? _

_As well as can be on the eve of a battle. _

_I suppose so, have you decided what you are doing this afternoon? _

_Unfortunately for you, I am going back to sand to train the Urgals. _

_I had hoped you would not say that. I can hardly stand the grunting and clanging. Not to mention the oh so frequent yelling._

_Saphira?_ Arya had since joined the conversation. It had become customary that Arya was included in their discussions. The great Sapphire dragon had extended her family of a sorts to include her as well. Whether or not it was normal of dragons for their Rider's mates, Arya did not know. But she was grateful for it.

_What is it, little princess? _

Normally, the elf would take offense in being called a 'little princess,' but Saphira used an endearing tone, a tone which gave as much respect as love. She found she reveled in it more than anything else.

_Would you care to accompany me instead? I am going around to the different camps and checking status, any last minute changes, or problems. It will be far less noisy. _

_Honestly, that sounds like the best idea so far. Eragon I shall speak with you later, or at least during the travels. The distance is not so far, and I can hardly take the banging with it. Keep your mind open, I shall contact you soon. _

_Very well Saphira, have fun. _

Arya mounted Saphira and the two rose steadily in the air. He loved the fact that his mate was a natural flyer. She became queasy, but never to the point of actually having a problem. He looked back down and headed over to the front. He would have long time today, yelling, breaking up fights, going through movements. _Ugh, this would tire me even more than battles against the Empire. _

Eragon retrieved his helmet, and headed towards the Urgals. The new company was already waiting for him. With a few commands, they assembled in formation and went through a fighting sequence. Eragon helped when he could, but he mainly remained a spectator, only intervening when necessary.

_Little one, are you ready to talk? _

_Now more than ever Saphira, what is it? _

_I have observed the sea serpents. _

_And?_

_There is cause for concern Eragon. They are far larger, and far more vicious than before. _

Worry crept into his features. _Were you safe? Was everything alright?_

_Hush Eragon, of course I was fine. Had I not been, you would have known. That is not the point. We cannot cross the barriers you put. I know if there is a case in which you must, then you will, but I am telling you, you cannot do so. The mothers are overprotective, they are slashing and lashing out at even their own kin in fear. If anything crosses the barrier, the sea serpents will wage war against it. These ones are powerful enough to spew water a good seventy feet on to land. They are formidable. _

_We cannot move the armies back. We have no space. _

_Do not move back, do not move forward. This war will not be won by position and land gained or lost. It will be last man standing, no matter where it is. _

_Thank you Saphira. Although I do wish that I was there when you were in such a dangerous position. _

_There was no danger, I observed from a height well above the ground, and well above their reach._

_Can your sight penetrate water as well? _

_Of course it can. My eyes adjust to the different mediums as light bends. As long as light penetrates the medium, I can still see. Your eyes can do the same, although, the reach is not as far as mine. _

_Could you see the ships?_

…_Yes, they are moving at the same pace as before. They do look warlike. I doubt there will be any negotiation. Whether they know that we are waiting for them, I am not sure, but they are strong looking, and plentiful. They are not to be trifled with by their looks. _

_This does not sound good. We will have to discuss more during the war council tonight. What does Glaedr-elda say? _

_He agrees, but he says to be far more cautionary when dealing with such new elements. We do not know of their world. They could be animals for all we know, or they could be gods as well. _

_We need more information then. Arya, are you listening? _

She had remained silent for the most of the conversation, only turning an occasional ear when her own presence was unneeded.

_What is it Eragon? _

_Can you ask Queen Islanzadi to ask her scholars if they knew anything of the Westlanders? I do not why this had not occurred to me before, but Galbatorix must have had some previous knowledge of different lands if he was able to get in contact with them. The elves are the only ones I can think of with possible information on them. _

_I will speak to my mother, I am going there next actually. However, more so than the elves, the Riders probably had records of them. _

_And their scribes died when Vroengard was destroyed, and we do not have the time to search for it. Damn it, I wish I thought of this sooner, we could have been much better prepared. _

_We are prepared Eragon, do not blame yourself. I will speak to my mother. In any case, there is a very high possibility that the king developed these contacts after the Fall. He is not without methods of knowing. _

_True. How fare your trips? _

_Mundane conversations, little skirmishes, nothing to be worried about. What of you? _

_Saphira would hate the afternoon training even more. I have had a raging headache minutes into it. Even battles do not have as much noise as this. _

_Are you almost through? _

_Through enough, this is the last company of Urgals, and there is one group left. Then General Halton's men, and then night will fall. _

…_Eragon? _

_Yes? _

_Did you know that Vanir is here? _

_No, no I did not. I did not see him with the other elves, then again, it is not like he requires any assistance. _

_He is outside my mother's tent, I knew she picked a skilled swordsman as her second-in-command of her warriors. But I did not know she chose Vanir for the task. _

_Nor did I, I will meet him later. It is good to be able to see him again. _

Arya leapt from Saphira's saddle, landing gracefully on the ground a few feet away from Saphira. Arya rubbed the dragon's snout affectionately, and was returned with a nuzzle. She turned to Vanir. He was arrogant, far more outspoken than most elves, but Arya respected him. Being one of the few to actually voice his concerns to the Queen, Vanir was an elf to be admired. She watched as he bowed to her respectfully, while conducting the traditional elven greeting. Returning it with some fervor, she started a conversation.

"Is there a wait to speak with the Queen?"

"Nay, Drottningu, there is not. I am just waiting for the Queen to call me in. I am needed it seems."

The Queen's voice rang out from inside, and she emerged a few seconds later.

"Ah Vanir, it is good you are here. Arya? Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Yes, Eragon wishes to know if the elves had any information in their records and archives of travels of these Westlanders. Can you ask the scholars in Ellesmera to search for them, and perhaps give an answer by early the next morning at the latest?"

"Of course, it will take but a second or so. Was there anything else Arya?"

"Is there anything you or your warriors require? The battle will commence day after tomorrow."

"So soon…it is no matter. No, there is nothing, how are the others faring with grim events around the corner?" 

"As well as can be. I do not fear their cowardice, they will fight. Eragon is familiarizing the soldiers to the new ground. None of the elves had much trouble, neither did the dwarves. The Urgals are not showing lack of ability, but rather lack of togetherness. Eragon is doing the best he can, it would be a daunting task for anyone."

"Will they follow his lead?"

"Yes, that is not a question. If anyone else tries to command them, they will surely not listen. They follow Eragon more than anyone else. The only reason they somewhat listened to me was due to the nature of our relationship."

"Good, we do not want surprises at the time of battle. Who else do you have to visit today?"

"Commander Alinor, General Huvin, and my men."

"Then I shall see you later tonight at the war council."

Arya nodded and leapt on Saphira as deftly as she leapt off. The pair was off again.

He finally watched enough of Urgal sparring that he was able to put together a routine of his own for the Urgals to mimic. He began in slow motion, signaling the Urgals to follow him. He felt rather brash and uncoordinated, but he was doing the motions perfectly. Such was the style of Urgal fighting – emphasis on strength, not swiftness, gracefulness, or balance. It worked for them, but never for him. After a while, the Urgals went through the last routine with little glitches. He was proud of them. As hated the Urgal lifestyle may be, they were true to themselves, and they made no effort to hide that. Their nature was to stand and fight their problems out, not run and backstab like cowards. Admirable, and just as morbid.

The last of the Urgals left the training grounds. The Rider turned towards the ocean. Gone was the calm of the islet. In its place was the ripples and occasional surface break of sea serpents rising from the depths of the water. The pike system was still in place. His thoughts drifted, flitting between the sea serpents, Saphira, Arya, Glaedr-elda, the battle, and finally settled on the king. To the best of his knowledge, the king did not know the Varden were prepared for the attack from the sea. The Varden in Feinster should still have the appearance of being full and ready for an attack. The king must have thought the battle of the sea would wipe out the Varden for there were no records of planning at attack around the same time frame. However, the king was not so dull to plan in case these Westlanders failed. Half a week…three or four days was the most time the Varden would get between the battle of the sea and the battle for keeping Feinster. They had to win this battle by all costs, but the battle for Feinster could either be a win or a stalemate. As long as they did not lose the city, they would survive for the next attack. The elves were still with the Varden, and the soldier's morale was quite high after the battle against Murtagh. It was odd that no signs of the Empire were sighted in that month between Murtagh's death and this battle. The king wanted the Varden to fall in a stupor, unable to predict the unexpected. The elves under Commander Theranis held Gilead with much more vigor than before. Eragon had full confidence the prison would not be lost again.

The sand crunched behind him as the first of the only human men carefully stepped on the sand. They were comfortable with it, but not nearly as comfortable for fighting on it.

"Men under General Halton! How do you fare this evening?"

Eragon's voice rang out, bringing a mix of silence and mutters of 'fine' or 'well.' When no further comment was given, he continued his words.

"Gentlemen, I know you are familiar with the landscape of the battle, however, you have not had a chance to fight in it. The footing and movements will be quite different. Please find a sparring partner, space for a duel, and practice. I do not mean to demerit you skills, but it is best to familiarize yourself. Please begin."

The young Rider watched as the human men circled, finding partners and space to duel. They were formidable men, experienced fighters. Good soldiers. Most of them tripped over their feet, others adapted well, slowing their movements, applying a more stationary tactic. Others used the sand as an advantage, moving quickly here and there, making their opponent slip and fall. Eragon figured these soldiers as the ones who made a point to spar with the elves to gain skill. But overall, he was quite satisfied with the abilities of the soldiers. Together, these soldiers would make a fighting force with the abilities to march the capital. _Uru'baen…_Eragon's thoughts moved to Darius. He felt guilty for leaving the man in such a state. He had just learned of his friend's death, and that he was marked by the King himself. Wherever he was, Eragon wished the man peace, he was an honorable one, blinded, but honorable.

It was dusk when General Halton's men had finished their training. Those wanting more practice stayed later, only after careful warning of not to thread closer to the waters. The sun had grown darker, but Eragon could still make out the figure of a man approaching quickly from a mile or so away.

"Shurtugal!"

An elf, and not just any elf, it was Vanir.

"Vanir! It is good to see you again. I did not know you came."

The elf bowed in the traditional greeting, to which Eragon returned. They stood facing each other. As if unsure what to say, they stayed in silence, a tinge of a smile on their faces. Vanir opened his mouth to say something, but was quickly hushed as Eragon embraced him in a light brotherly hug.

Truly, the Rider did not think the elf would return it, but Vanir let a small laugh and returned the gesture.

"It is good to see you as well Shurtugal. How have you been since the last we sparred?"

"I have been great, I did not see you when I came to Ellesmera some months ago."

"I was actually in Gilead at the time, but I was called back a week before the attack. When I returned, you had already left for the Varden."

"Ah so we just missed each other. How are you Vanir?"

The two elf like figures moved towards the war council tent.

"I am quite well as can be. I honestly did not think the war would escalate into the scale it has so quickly." Eragon noticed Vanir's voice had turned thoughtful trying to discern the cause of the increase in severity. "But all is well that can be well. I am second in command, a surprise as I see myself better as a warrior, not a strategist."

"In a way, you are a strategist."

"How so Shurtugal?"

"When we spar, you take your time, observing your opponent. After you decipher their movements, you form a plan, and move against your foe. You strategize there, baiting, waiting, then striking. Your strike is of a well play strategy, observed from the battle techniques of your foe."

"I suppose you are right, however, I do not have experience in a large scale battle."

"Neither do I, but here we are, strategists in our own way."

Vanir let a hint of a smile show, "I am glad to be able to call you a friend Shurtugal."

"Then do not call me Shurtugal, call me Eragon, as a friend."

"Very well…Eragon." Vanir toyed with the new word, as if it was foreign to his lips.

They walked in a comfortable silence towards the war council. It seemed so long ago he had acted rash against Vanir during their duel. It was not that Vanir was completely free of fault, but Eragon had taken the bait. Yet here they were, friends walking together on the heels of the battle, under the falling sun. Ironic, yet fitting in a way – a relationship started with fighting, rekindled under violence in the guise of a battle.

The war council was well lit. Noises of voices hushed by the distance attracted Eragon's attention. They had the making of an argument. Subconsciously hurrying his steps, the Rider made his way swiftly into the tent. The Queen was standing, her face a determined, stubborn expression. She was speaking to Chief Freowin, the dwarf clan chief who brought his warriors to fight in the Battle of the Sea. Commander Alinor, General Halton, and General Huvin remained motionless, mere observers of the heated argument. Arya stood in the corner, watching as Eragon entered. She gave him a small smile before he walked over to her. The Queen gave him a quick nod before resuming her conversation with Chief Freowin. He stood next to Arya. Saphira stuck her head in, she was waiting for Eragon to enter the 'fray' as she called it.

The Rider looked back at the commotion. He turned to Arya as she laid a hand on his upper arm. She kissed him quickly on the cheek before returning to her stoic stance. Lord Däthedr stood next to the Queen, carefully avoiding the Rider's eyes.

_What have I missed Arya? _

_Chief Freowin is rather angry that the plan has the dwarves coming in at the last surge. He says that the catapults have enough manpower, and that we should not waste time by sending in forces._

_And what did Queen Islanzadi say? He should be yelling at me, it was my idea._

_Well yes, but the Queen did defend it, and therefore the strategists are arguing. _

_Should I intervene? _

_And say what? _

_Explain my reasons again. _

_Nay, let my mother do that, if you are needed, we will know. _

_Has Lord Däthedr spoken to you since?_

_He feels far too uncomfortable for that. I shall speak with him on the battlefield. I do feel bad for him. My mother and I have reconciled, yet my friend who should have never been placed in such a position is guiltily avoiding me. _

_I am sorry Arya._

_It is no matter, we will be friends again. How was your walk with Vanir? _

_I thought it was you who sent him. _

_He did express, in not so many words, that he wished to see you. He thinks highly of you. _

_And I of him, he is a good man, a good friend. I am glad I saw him again. We barely missed each other when we went to Ellesmera last. How did the last of your visits fare?_

_Well as can be. No qualms yet. People are nervous for the battle, and they should be. I saw some writing letters to their families…war was not supposed to be part of history. _

_How can you be so sure? _

_Everything happens for a reason, yet I can see no reason for war. I see no reason that a world must fight against each other because of one man's wrath. I see no reason for this kind of mourning. I can find a purpose from it, yet I cannot find a reason for it. _

_I understand, and yes you are right. There can be a world without war…but it seems there will be a second war between dwarves and elves if this argument is not stopped. _

Arya turned her attentions to a now yelling Chief Freowin. Her mate stepped into the circle and moved towards the table.

"Chief Freowin, you bring valid points of discussion. However, one small factor has been overlooked. The cliff from which the catapults are being placed can only hold a certain weight. Therefore, the trajectory projectiles close by will be in limited numbers. There needs to be a constant ten dwarves for each catapult. Three will be the physical handling of the machine. Because of the distance, the other seven will be constantly ferrying the projectiles from the holding area to the catapults. It takes around fifteen seconds for one to be fired, so in order for a projectile to be ready every fifteen seconds without weighing the cliff down too much, this is the only way. Your clan makes this possible. Else we will be held down to a projectile fired every minute or so, which severely decreases our chances of success. We want the manual fighting to be limited, which is why we have placed the pikes, the catapults and the ditches as they are. If all goes as planned, the dwarves will be responsible for most of the fallen enemies."

The chief seemed satisfied with his answer. If there was one thing he learned from Arya, it was to praise to appease without riling the other. Eragon stepped back in his place next to Arya as the war council moved into a steady silence.

Commander Alinor spoke next, "The Urgals are numerous, we should split the group into five separate companies. Two in front and three in back, it would save space, confine the battle to a smaller area, and the proximity should reduce the number of casualties. The elves then, should be out of sight. We are basing our attacks on surprise, all of them, so the bombardment of them should be as well."

"How can you do that? The sand is open, a plane. There is nowhere to hide." General Halton brought up a valid point, but he discredited the elves magical ability.

Lord Däthedr spoke, his voice was confident even though his eyes were uneasy. "The elves can use magic to become invisible."

"Forgive me if I am wrong, but does that not take a toll on the user. We need the elves superior abilities to be intact against these opponents, and if their magic tires them before the battle…"

Saphira poked her head in the conversation.

_May I speak generals? _

The Queen's reply was swift, "That is no question Saphira Bjartskular. Please say what is on your mind."

_I do not think we will need magic to mask presences. The sky has become unusually overcast, it will rain. I have flown to the tops of the clouds and through them. They are thick with moisture and unstable. It will begin to rain early in the morning day after tomorrow or even perhaps later tomorrow night. The thick clouds have turned black with the pollution from the molding of metals the dwarves have undertaken. All the soldiers must do is wear darker colors, perhaps cover themselves in mud, or bury themselves in the sand and they will be completely masked. But rain will come the morning of the battle. _

Eragon lifted his head to look at his dragon. He rubbed her snout affectionately, _It will put a damper on spirits I suppose. _

The great dragon growled her agreement before receding her mind from the others'. She remained in Eragon's however.

"That settles it," Islanzadi's voice dulled everyone else's, "we shall wear dark colors, and hide in the sand until the moment comes to attack. Council is dismissed unless anyone has anything to add."

No voices sounded. The dwarves stood and bowed, followed quickly by the Urgal commanders who only bowed to Eragon. General Halton, General Huvin, and Commander Alinor left shortly after, exchanging a few pleasantries along the way. Truth be told, those three had become quite close after their tasks. It seems working towards a common goal put the others in a healthy respect of each other. That camaraderie was what Eragon strived for between all of the commanders, but that wish was far harder to achieve.

Soon, only Vanir, the Queen, Lord Däthedr, Arya, Saphira, and himself remained. Eragon glanced outside. The sun had fallen completely, and neither was a moon gracing them with its presence. Yesterday had been a full moon, and today there would be no moon. He lifted an idle hand to tuck a loose strand behind Arya's ear. Considering they were relatively alone, Arya caught his hand and held it close to her heart, all the while gazing in his eyes. Bringing her hands close to his lips, he placed a small kiss on her knuckles, and returned his hand to her possession. The queen watched with a smile, but the couple was oblivious to their onlookers. She turned away from them, and motioned for Vanir and Lord Däthedr to leave them.

Even as the elves silently filed out of the room, the couple was broken from their trance. Exchanging a smile and a sheepish look, they followed suit, darkening the candles as they left.

Saphira took off to the skies, her blue scales a dark silhouette against the moonless sky. She became one with the clouds, large as she was.

"We only have one more day, iet liduen Shurtugal."

"Hmm, what shall we do with it?"

"Do you not have more soldiers to watch?"

"Just the last of the dwarves and elves, I do not predict it will last past noon tomorrow."

"A free afternoon…"

"What would you like to do iet Drottningu?"

"I have not run in quite some time."

A coy smile slighted her features. The ground shifted under feet, the sand moving out from underneath her powerful, swift feet as she took off running. Grinning at her antics, Eragon started quickly after her. She ran faster now. Even with the power of the Grey Folk, Arya could still potentially outrun him. Eragon admired his mate for her speed, it was legendary even among elves. He kept in pace and slowed down when she stopped close to the cliff. They were running for five minutes, they were a few miles from their tent. She had taken him to a place where the ocean truly ran wild. There was no cliff, no barrier, only the water of tidal waves to wash their feet. They were far from the camp. Too far for the sea serpents to know of their proximity

He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around and burying his face in her neck.

"I love you Arya." His voice was low, strong, confident in his words as he whispered them in the Ancient Language in her ear. "If I have not told you lately, I love you."

She felt her heartbeat quicken, her mouth run dry. She turned in his arms and grasped him tightly. "I love you Eragon, more than I could ever know."

His hands circled her back, caging her in with two bands of steel as her protection. She never felt as vulnerable in his arms, and as protected. He had the power to send her back into the farthest depths of hell, and he had the power to protect her from the strongest enemy. And yet, he would never even dream of hurting her. A lesser man, one who placed her safety even before her, would have kept her from the world. Perhaps even become angry at her forward nature, but not Eragon. Even her mother thought to knock sense into her, but never Eragon. It was strange, the person she most likely meant the most to, loved her the way she always wanted to be loved - protected in freedom.

They stood entangled in each other's embrace for far longer than they cared to know.

"We should get some rest Eragon. It is late, and we have much to do tomorrow."

He tightened his arms, a small plea to not leave the peacefulness. But his weariness caught him as he sagged against his elf. Catching him with ease, she lifted his body against hers, wrapping a steadying arm around his waist. They walked, leaning on each other, back towards the tent. They reached the place within thirty minutes, far too tired to place his armor back in the proper place, Eragon let it stay on the ground as he undid the rest of his straps. He changed into felt, leaving his upper body bare. It was warm outside, and he enjoyed the feel of a light breeze on his chest.

Arya glanced at him, the longing desire evident in her gaze. There was no doubt she was attracted to him, and the magnitude of their attraction was explosive at the least. She changed out of her leather armor into more comfortable clothing. She pulled out a clean white tunic and put it on. She frowned as it fell far past her usual tailored ones – meaning it was her mate's. Looking up at Eragon, she saw him smiling.

"Arya, do you make a point to pull out my clothes instead of yours?"

She raised her eyebrows, but made no move to change. Instead, she wrapped herself in the tunic, and laid on the bed, fidgeting with the covers to pull them up. His tunic was long enough to be considered a short nightdress, if it had not been so masculine in tailoring, but she could have cared less. His clothes were much more comfortable than hers, in terms of material. Of course, she did not even have to think of the comfort his unique scent gave her.

She turned her back to him, leaving ample space for him to lay next to her. Eragon padded over to her side. He slide himself in, letting one hand wander over her bare, smooth, soft legs. Arya let out a breath, and leaned against him. His arm came over her side and pressed him against her back. His hand lay low on her waist, spread over her abdomen. She shivered against his warm body.

Feeling the drowsiness take over, her voice came out a somewhat coherent slew of words, "Eragon…I'm cold." She shivered against him once more.

Seeing her legs were bare, even if covered in a blanket, Eragon mindlessly threw a leg over hers, locking her in place. She was immediately warmed. A smile played on her lips as she fell asleep.

The morning came with the bangings and clangings of a battle preparation. The sun's rays were just peaking over the water, signaling the start of a new day. His eyes focused, alert, Eragon awoke trying to discern the noises around him. Thankfully, they had nothing to do with unexpected problems, rather last minute shining and sharpening of weapons. Sparing his last glance to the elf underneath him, Eragon saw she had awoken and deep in thought.

He leaned over, pressing his lips against her neck. "How long have you been awake?"

"Half an hour or so."

"Why did you not wake me?"

She turned in his arms, moving her leg in between his. "I would like to say that you were sleeping far too peacefully, but the truth is, I could not move too much, nor did I want to."

His grin widened, "What were you thinking of?"

"Ways to bury ourselves in the sand."

Eragon frowned, lines of deep thought appearing on his face. Arya propped herself on an elbow, running her hands through his hair, and finally undoing the creases his face showed.

"I suppose we could change the color of the armor to match wet sand, but it will be dark. The most efficient way would be to make a small ditch for each person, big enough to maneuver comfortably, but fill up quickly as well."

"I was thinking along those same lines. We shall see today. We have the morning to experiment, and you need to go back to your familiarizations."

He nodded, "They should not take too long, ten minutes or so for each will not be such a long time."

A knock sounded on the door, abruptly ending his train of thought. He grumbled off the bed, and found an old tunic lying on the ground. He thoughtlessly pulled it over and opened the flap. He exited the tent, leaving Arya to change while he conversed with the messenger.

"Shurtugal, I bring a message from Islanzadi Drottning. She says to meet her in her tent within ten minutes. Do not be late."

"Thank you, can you tell her that we will be there shortly?"

"Of course Shurtugal."

Eragon entered the tent once again, he noiselessly pulled his old tunic off and began putting on the bare necessities with his armor. Questioning his speedy changing, Arya raised her eyebrows at the Rider.

"Your mother wants us in her tent in ten minutes. She even sent a message saying 'Do not be late'"

Shrugging her shoulders, Arya purposely took her time, savoring the feel of each garment being pulled over her body. She glanced back over to her mate. He stood, a look of impatience clouding his eyes. To make matters worse, she was on the verge of laughter.

Unable to take her prolonging movements, Eragon walked over and did her laces and belt for her. He slipped in the swords at an admirable speed and mock bowed while motioning to the tent entrance. Shaking her head, Arya walked briskly past him, ruffling his hair.

"Oh Eragon, you should know the status quo for elven promptness. Mark my words, my mother will not be ready within ten minutes."

"Arya, I hate to admit it, but I fear your mother."

She laughed lightly as they mounted Saphira. They arrived within ten minutes on the dot.

Eragon leapt off and knocked on the wooden plank announcing their arrival.

"Eragon, Arya?"

"Yes, it is us."

"Good, you are here. Wait for some more time, I shall come out shortly."

He turned his head sheepishly towards his mate. She was staring, her eyes filled with amusement. _I told you so._

"Fine, so you are right about the impeccable timing of the elves."

A coy smile remained on her face, "And among other things, dear Rider, and among other things."

He briskly walked over and captured her lips with his own. "The truth is that you and Saphira are right about everything."

The princess was about to reply when she heard her mother call from the inside of her tent.

"Come in. Saphira Bjartskular, there is a window in which you can join in on our conversation."

They entered quickly, the humor dying from their eyes.

"I have done as you asked, and our scholars have finished searching. Shadeslayer, this is Luehar the Wise, and Ansris the Keeper. They have gone through the records and wish to share their findings with you. The Queen stepped back leaving a glass mirror with shimmering images of two male elves.

"Shurtugal, Drottningu, Bjartskular, it is good to see you safe, however, I wished our first time meeting would have been under different circumstance Shurtugal, Bjartskular. But we do not have the time to waste. We have discovered some interesting knowledge, dating nearly a few millennia back." The elf the Queen introduced as Luehar stopped speaking as Ansris began. They were most coordinated.

"The records talk of strange ships, almost savage like elegance on the horizon. As the ships neared, there was a strange mist that accompanied their travels. The mist did not seem to go away, meaning it had something to do to mask their presence. However, the elven eye was much to keen. The origins of the mist are not known. The ships seemed to have been painted over, usually in the color white, but dabs of red were seen as well."

Luehar began again, "Do not think these are a peaceful nation because of the white. The color takes on a grotesque look as it is smeared over their ships in various symbols. As far as the men themselves, they are a dark, dark skin. Darker than the late Ajihad himself. They are not Nightstalkers, they do not carry the elegance of their kind. These men are rough looking, they have various bumps over their skin, piercings to accompany them. It seems the more metal in their body, the more mettle they have. Excuse the pun."

Eragon nodded, motioning for them to continue. Ansris began again, "We have no records of them showing ability to use magic. Since that quality is not something that changes, no matter how long ago it was, we can safely deduce that they cannot use magic. That being said, if Galbatorix was in close contact, it is highly likely he could have used dark magic to grant some the ability. After all, just because magic does not exist where, does not mean they do not have the ability, but rather were never able to tap into that particular talent."

"Which leads to our next problem-" Luehar jumped in again. "The one time they came to this land, they came in a large group, nearly fifty thousand in number. If the dark king found a way to grant the use of magic to each one of them, your task of this battle will be far more daunting. The good news is that in all the studies of this dark magic, no one has been able to do it to that magnitude. It simply takes far too much energy. So look for a few magic users, not many."

They pair seemed to distance themselves next, as if dreading their next words.

"What is it?" Eragon prodded, he had not the time to be coddled, he was desperate to know what they were up against.

"Brace your ears Shurtugal, your next target will require far more skill than slaying a Shade." Luehar looked away and stepped back leaving Ansris the last words.

"We have various representations of strange creatures that these men ride. They are boarlike in appearance, yet their tusks are far longer, like that of an elephant. Often these animals have spikes attached to them. On top is the rider of those animals. They do not have a connection like Dragon and Rider, they are simply beasts, like horses used for battle purposes. Behind the rider who sits, literally, on the beast's neck, there is a platform of a sort. On top are archers and spear bearers."

The blood drained from the Rider's face, "How many men can fit on that platform?"

The elf looked forlorn as he replied, "Twelve, not including the Rider."

"Ansris, how big is the beast that can carry thirteen men with ease enough to ride into battle?"

"Nearly three quarters the size of Saphira Bjartskular, but far heavier built."

Eragon's voice was growing fainter by the second. "How many did they have with them?"

"Not more than seventy, no less than fifty."

"Can they be killed?"

"I do not know Shadeslayer, that is a task you must undertake. Stay safe, we have given you all the information we have. May the stars watch over you and your loved ones. I wish you a victorious journey home."

"Thank you Ansris." The Rider's voice shook as the older elf faded away. If he did not know better, he saw a glisten against the elf's face, a slight tear slipping at their plight.

_We cannot lose hope, Eragon, we will find a way. _

He wanted to listen to his dragon's voice, but he could not find it in himself to think properly. These beasts were numerous, strong, and they had no way known to kill them. He shook his head, ridding himself of these thoughts.

"Your Highness, please call a war council within five minutes, we need to discuss the information of these beasts, possibly redo a formation."

The Queen nodded and sent messengers out within seconds. Eragon remained seated, staring at his own reflection in the clear mirror. He felt a hand touch his shoulder, a delicate hand, a hand made for loving, not fighting in a dismal battle. He turned towards the hand, uncaring the mother of that hand was standing in the same room. In his seated position, he buried his head in his mate's abdomen, enveloping her lithe waist with his rougher arms. She immediately ran her hands through his disheveled hair, massaging all thoughts of uncertainty out.

"Do not fear, iet liduen Shurtugal, we shall find a way to win. We must."

"I do not fear for my life, Drottningu, I will gladly lay it down for this fight. I fear for the others who came at my request, and who will face the most dangerous beast in this battle."

"They must have a way to be killed, we will find it."

Eragon pressed his face in her abdomen, "I do not mean these monstrous creatures from oversees. The most dangerous beast these warriors face is cowardice. I fear they will abandon their courage at the sight of those monsters."

The couple quickly broke apart as the first general made his entrance. The others quickly followed. Eragon wasted no time with formalities, rather started immediately with the new information.

General Halton was the first to lose hope, "We can abandon this mission, come back when we are better prepared."

"We cannot, there is no coming back General." Eragon's fear was coming alive, the last thing he wanted were the thoughts of fleeing in the leaders' minds. "Do not forget, we are the only defense between the Varden and the shore. If we flee, the Varden will be surrounded be morning and we will surely be dead."

Chief Freowin was the most in support of General Halton's suggestion, "We can flee Feinster, move towards Belatona. Leave this place."

"We cannot flee! We cannot abandon this post and move the entire Varden in one day!"

"Argetlam! It is not cowardice to leave this place in a losing battle! We cannot win this battle! Staying here is madness!"

"Mad! This is madness? If they can bleed Chief Freowin, then they can be killed! The battle is not lost, it has not even begun! And already you think of fleeing! Take your armies with you, Chief! Take them, leave those who will stay! Even if the entire Varden leaves me, I will stand and fight these Westlanders, that is my duty. And by your gods, I will fulfill it."

The dwarf chief said no more under the Rider's rage. They will stand and fight, or they will fall together. Eragon's voice returned to his control, determined quick thinking, contemplating.

"We cannot move back, we are good where we are, binding them between the sea serpents and ourselves. The elves can no longer hide in the sand, the danger of being trampled is far too great. General Huvin, how fast can the catapults be repositioned?"

"It will take quite some time, but there is no need as the range can vary with notches that change the angle of elevation."

"Very well, strike at the ships first, when the land is filled with these beasts, fire at them. The Urgals will move out of sight for the moment. They will attack later, when the catapults have done most of the damage. We cannot risk any casualties from our own ammunition."

"If I may Shurtugal, I might have an idea worth implementing."

"Of course Commander Alinor, what do you suggest?"

"These creatures are four-legged, and their anatomy, from the sounds of it, mimics those in Alagaesia. In order to incapacitate these creatures, I suggest we attack the legs, the place connecting their muscle to their bone, rendering them unable to move. Of course, we would require teams of four to do this, and then fight the soldiers that jump off."

General Huvin spoke next, "A wise suggestion, well thought out, but how can we be sure the anatomy is that close to the beasts that travel this land."

_We cannot_, Saphira's melodious voice entered the discussion, _but we do not have any other choice. In any case, all creatures, including you, have points where your muscles are attached to your bone, rendering you able to move about. Where these points are may be different, but they are still there, and it will not take long to find based on the movements of these creatures. _

The much more balanced dwarf general nodded, silencing his concerns. If the Urgals showed any concern, they did not show it. They trusted him far more than he trusted himself. He looked to Arya. Her brow was furrowed, the only evidence she was concerned at his outburst to the clan chief. It was not like him, Eragon usually did not lose his serenity because of some trivial comment. But the truth was that they had no time to be coddled either. They were in war, and with a war came certain sacrifices, even if it meant the lives of soldiers. He moved his gaze away from Arya's, ashamed at what he was asking. If the battle was not in their favor, they would be quickly overrun, and there would be no survivors. He doubted the Face – Painters would treat prisoners well, and from their poisons and drugs, Eragon had no desire to be taken captive.

_You said it yourself little one, this is a war, there must be sacrifice. You are not sentencing these soldiers to death, but a chance to fight for the land and the cause they have grown to love._

He sent his acceptance, moving his gaze once more over Arya and towards the leaders again. Hours passed as they discussed plans, movements, possible scenarios. Saphira grew bored, she had nothing to say in these discussions. Eragon let the dwarves and elves know that he would not be there to coordinate their introductions and that if they needed to, they could take the time off to spar in the sand. Back in the regal tent of the Queen, the leaders plagued over the maps, trying to discern the best way to fight this war.

"Commander Alinor, there seems to be a message for you."

The Queen had answered the summons. Tired from the endless discussions, she let the messengers in without a second thought.

"What is it Runaen, Ilriari?"

"We have spotted the ships, they are within elven eyesight. They will be here early tomorrow morning."

"Thank you."

The messengers left, leaving the room in a deathly silence. Eragon mulled over the map again, taking his mind off the deaths bound to occur in less than a half a day. He looked towards the small closable window as the breeze strengthened into a cold battering of his skin. It was uncharacteristic for the middle of the summer, _then again, so is war. Uncharacteristic for anytime of the year for that matter._ He shivered through his armor. The wind swept through the tent, blowing out the candles, dousing the inhabitants in cold air. As if on cue from some higher maestro, lightning flashed, illuminating only half of the experienced warriors faces at a time. A roaring thunder followed, shaking the ground, rendering them deaf for the slightest of times. His usual glowing blue eyes dulled in the atmosphere. He found the emerald beacons of his mate and voiced what everyone was thinking.

"And so it begins."

Rain pelted the ground, the tent threatened to cave under its force. Closing his eyes, Eragon could hear the relentless clash between the heavens weapons against a defenseless land. Water, sharp and pointed, like small ice sheets pierced the ground. An uncontainable, deadly source of light hit the ground, destroying what lay in its path. The sound shook the very core of the land, as if trying to shake its impurities out. And all the while, the sun faded, and the day grew darker…and darker.

"We have done all we can. We should depart and prepare our men for the battle."

Commander Alinor led the generals out of the tent. Eragon bowed to the Queen, his eyes were unfocused however, his mind elsewhere. Arya followed him out, Saphira was already waiting for them.

_Saphira, take us to the cliff. _

_I do not think it wise. _

_I need to know, the sea serpents will not attack from that far up._

_Very well, brace yourself, the wind has increased. _

Saphira rose against the winds, she made her way, rather clumsily in the strong gales. Eragon crouched low, not wanting to be seen by the ships. He said the words to meld their senses together and Eragon could see far past normal elven sight. He felt Arya lay next to him. Her body was close to preserve heat.

These ships were indeed painted white. The symbols he could not make out, but they ran up and down the hull and the sides. The front was pointed in some grotesque figure of a decapitated man. Whoever they were, violence ran in their blood, perhaps even more than the Urgals. He could barely see through the fog, but the man he did see was enough to run his blood cold. He was bald, a short stubble of black hair. His lips were pursed together, creating a face of pure malice. He had no eyelids, his eyes stuck out, wide, beady like. There were rings over his eyebrows, embedded in his skin. He wore a black vest, hiding the sinewy, ropey muscles underneath. Circle of white were plastered on his face. He raised an ax, almost the size of Brisingr itself, and yelled commands to his soldiers. He face returned to the front, cold, calculating, maniacal. His eyes were pitch black, the whites of the outside seemed out of place against the black skin and horrific eyes.

The Rider tore his gaze from leader of the Face-Painters. He pulled Arya against him, suddenly afraid for her. She seemed to feel similarly, for she clutched his head to her chest, protecting him.

_Little ones, we should head back. The sea is getting more violent, and I do not want to risk us being sighted. _

They slowly moved back and mounted Saphira's saddle. They arrived at their tent within a minute, but not before Eragon turned his gaze to look one last time on the oncoming fog. Arya cupped the side of his face and gently tore his gaze away.

_Do not dwell on them. We still have some time together. _

They entered the tent, Saphira opted to find a place nearby where she would be protected from the majority of the rainfall. When she could find none, Eragon cast an invisible bubble over her, leading the raindrops away from her tired body.

_Can you keep up the spell?_

_All of the sea life is helping maintain it. The bubble will hold, and none shall pay a deep price for it. _

_Thank you little one. Sleep well tonight, I will see you in the morning. _

MATURE CONTENT DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO

Eragon cast a loving gaze at his dragon before following his mate into their tent. As he entered, she sealed the flap and window shut. Leaving one candle lit in the far corner, she moved to remove his armor.

"Arya, we should not, not now. Something may go wrong at any moment."

"It does not matter." She moved her lips over his, a slight demand he start participating. _We might not have another chance, iet Shurtugal. We may never have another chance to be together. _

_You cannot leave me! Arya, do not think such thoughts. _

_Then wipe them from my mind, leave no trace of them, let there only be you, you and your love. _

She immediately felt his overwhelming presence sweep through her barriers. Instead of worry and fear that gripped him, he sent only his feeling of love. Arya had removed most of the armor from his body. His sword was still attached, and his belt was stuck. Eragon separated himself for a mere second before undoing the belt himself and ridding the sword from his way.

He pulled his elf closer to him, undoing the laces just as quickly as he did them earlier that day. Ruthlessly shifting the material aside, he never broke their kiss. They fell on the bed together, Arya pinned underneath Eragon. Her hands moved over his bare body, possessive, claiming. He was hers, only hers. The Rider pushed the increasingly offending material from his mate's body, and captured her lips once again.

The rain pattered outside, a constant force in the bleak surroundings. But for the moment, Rider and Princess, lovers and mates, forgot their problems. They simply gave themselves up to the passion threatening to destroy them. Their fierce lovemaking turned their minds away from the dismal tomorrow and onto the perfect now. If anything, they were finding a reason to fight again, finding a reason to succeed even in the face of such terrifying foes. They were making a memory, an impression, a testimony that even in the face of a battle, they found something to anchor themselves to – each other.

An hour later, Eragon lay, spent, next to Arya. He had not held anything back in showing her how much he loved her. He made a point to discard any foreboding feeling from her mind so only them and their pleasure together remained. She ran her hands over the fine sheen that covered his muscled body. Capturing her lips one last time, Eragon rolled her over so she was comfortable laying on top of him, her head resting on his heart, one arm draped over his torso, and her thigh thrown carelessly over his own. He ran a hand over her leg, initiating a contented sigh.

_Iet liduen Shurtugal, I do not tell you nearly enough. I love you. I love you more than I can say. More than the numbers of stars in the sky or blades of grass in all of Du Weldonvarden. I love you more than strength of the sun or the distance between the earth and the moon. I love you as much as there is water in the sea, and I will love you until the sun brings darkness instead of light, until rain falls towards the sky, until objects float upwards voluntarily. Forever, iet shurtugal, iet Eragon, I will love you forever. _

_And I will love you, __iet __evarínya nuanen, iet __gedwey fëon, iet Drottningu, iet Arya, until all the magic of the land is destroyed, including the Ancient Language itself. Sleep well, I shall watch over you tonight. _

END MATURE CONTENT

The sun invisible morning came with a thunder able to shake the dwarven gods off their pedestals.

"Shurtugal, Drottningu, we have two hours before they are in firing distance." The elf banged on their wooden plank, obviously in too much of a hurry to wait for their response. With a battle, it was no surprise the elf had many messages to deliver.

Eragon sprung into action: donning his armor, tightening his straps, attaching his sword and a knife he found to be useful. He stared at his appearance in the slightly cracked mirror. It had broken sometime during the night, no doubt due to the thunder. He was in the fluid armor of the Grey Folk. The material was light weight, promoting flexibility and agility. It was practically impenetrable, except for a Rider's sword. He turned his gaze eye level. Staring back at him was a deformed representation of what he was. The mirror altered his appearance of it. Seeing his fascination with the broken form of his face, Arya moved her hand over the mirror and fixed the broken glass.

There were no thoughts of weakness today, there could not be. Today, they were warriors: hardened, emotionless, determined. Arya slipped into her stiff leather armor. She armed herself with her sword, knife, short sword, and her bow and arrow. It was highly unlikely she would use all of them, but in a battle as unpredictable at this, she would take no chances with the 'If I only had this with me.'

They walked outside, emerging from their tent as the new light of the world, determined to set their enemies ablaze. Eragon undid the spell covering Saphira from the continued raging heavens. The rain had not let up since late last night. He put on Saphira's armor for her. Her growing size had rendered the old armor useless. When he had told Orik of it, the dwarf king immediately made arrangements, without Eragon's knowledge, to remake armor for Saphira. It had just been completed and Chief Freowin had brought it over with his warriors. The armor was black, a shiny ivory appeal about it. As technology and methods advanced, the pieces were physically smaller, lighter, but still kept the same amount of protection in terms of force absorption. Her spikes were carefully measured and covered with metal casings, both elongating and sharpening the points. Her tail was covered with hollow cylindrical pieces. Her tough scales on her back were left to the thinnest pieces, but her soft belly was covered with the thickest of metal plates. Her sternum was large enough so Eragon could sit comfortably, that being said, the front plate was by far the most massive piece of armor she would be equipped with. The helmet left the top of her snout covered, and her jaw line as well. It was the connection between two different pieces, allowing her the freedom of full jaw movement and breathing ability as two holes were made for her nostrils.

He placed the lighter saddle, the one used when movement and agility were the qualities wanted over comfort, on her back. He situated himself in the saddle, looking like the fearsome Dragon and Rider they were. Arya leapt in the saddle behind him, her arms around his waist, yet her eyes carefully guarded. They met the leaders by the battlefield. They had no fear of being seen by the Face-Painters, the fog was much too thick. The Urgals followed quickly into formation, they were placed two companies in front, three in back. The earlier positions were decided to have been kept the same. Limited space was to their favor. The elves were stationed fifty yards behind, and the humans fifty yards behind them.

The Rider squinted his eyes towards the dark horizon. Able to see through the fog, he estimated close to six hundred ships making their way towards their isle – all painted with the grotesque white painted symbols he recognized as those of the Face – Painters. If the numbers were correct, the ships could fit about seventy people, and one tusked beast. However, because of the information Ansris and Luehar gave him, he predicted seventy of those beasts would be on board. And if his calculations were right, seventy for each ship with a beast, and eighty for each without, there would be approximately forty-seven thousand soldiers from the enemy, give or take a few hundred.

He looked at the Varden warriors, they were but nine thousand strong. Their chances were growing slim. Even the most skilled of elves tired in battle.

_Do not forget Eragon. We have no Shade distracting us, no other Rider. We can set the place ablaze. _

_Will your fire hold under this rain?_

_It is the fire of a dragon, do not discredit it. _

_How much firepower do you have?_

_I can keep a flame lit for three hours straight. A full blaze for twenty minutes or so. _

_We will save it, let the pikes, catapults, and ditches do their work. We will save the fire to light the foot soldiers on fire. I fear that the tusked beasts will turn even more dangerous if they are lit on fire as they will die much slower than the foot soldiers. _

_Very well. _

Eragon turned back to the leaders of the army. They were still assembled in a line, a look of expressionless emotions plastered on their face. None seemed keen on talking. It seemed that they would win this battle, or lose their lives trying to succeed. Arya had made light conversation with Lord Däthedr, smoothing over the slight hurdle in their friendship. It was more so in need of harmony on the battlefield than pity towards him. Had it been different circumstances, she would not have been so forgiving for agreeing to something as immoral as the Queen's suggestion. Such was the pain to blind service, the server is truly blinded by his devotion.

"What are you thinking of Eragon?"

The Rider turned to face the speaker, Vanir.

"It is surprising, on the verge of battle and my mind is blank. I have no thoughts. Is it not strange?"

"No, I have no thoughts either. My mind turns into a blank state, focused on the tasks of the near future."

"You think of no one as the battle approaches?"

"There is no one for me to think of. I have never mated, neither have I found someone to love either. I think of my reasons to fight, and then I think of fighting. When the time comes, I wipe my mind of unnecessary thoughts and focus on the battle at hand."

"A wise technique. Unfortunately, as the time looms closer and closer, I can think of nothing else besides the people I care and love. We have quite different thoughts."

"Nay, Eragon. We have the same technique. I do not fight for people, I fight for myself, my reasons, my honor. Your reasons are the people you fight for, the people you love and care for. We both think of our reasons, and yours is because you fight for the people."

Eragon walked over and clasped his arm in a warrior's greeting, "And I will fight thinking of you, my friend, as well."

The elf let a hint of smile show through and returned the gesture with a small bow. The Rider walked slowly over to his mate. The ships were a little less than a half an hour away, the fog that masked their presence, now engulfed their small resistance as well. He could hear the shrieking, the barbaric shrilling noises from the Face-Painters, their war calls. Their calls for blood. It was as if each of them were an animal, incapable of thinking other than for killing and bloodshed. Their voices echoed in the skies, as loud as the thunder, shaking the skies in the chorus of the howling of forty seven thousand blood thirsty fiends. Their weapons clanged against the deck of the boat, a synchronized vow of death for their weapons.

Eragon felt a hand rest on his high on his neck. A thumb lay across his cheek, and the rest went slightly past his ear, comforting him. He closed his eyes and turned his face towards the hand. Looking back at his princess's face, he found the fear receding from his mind until all that remained was…anticipation. He was the Lord Rider Eragon, Rider of Saphira, mate to the Princess of Elves, the descendent of the power of the Grey Folk, and…

_Edoc'sil Hjarta abr Draumar Istalri. _The loving voice of his mate echoed in his head.

_Arya, stay safe, wiol eka (For me)._

_Wiol ono, I will. As long as you stay safe for me._

_Anything for my heart. _

He drew her into his arms, uncaring they were watched with hawk like eyes of the elves. They were unused such public displays of affection between their princess and her mate. But they would grow accustomed to it, as they grew accustomed to King Evander's displays of affection centuries before.

_Five minutes before the first ship comes in contact with the pikes. _Saphira's voice sounded in his mind. It lost its usual splendor or loving tone. She too was preparing herself for a battle in the storm.

Placing a kiss on the top of his elf's head, he drew away.

"Get into positions, they are drawing closer to the pike systems. I shall be up here, elven commanders, I will tell you when to attack, dwarves I shall signal when you must begin firing your catapults. General Halton, I know you are not familiar with this type of communication, but I will speak in your mind and I will tell you when to attack. Do not be alarmed when the time comes. Now make haste, we cannot risk being exposed like this." They left, only Arya lingered. She grasped the sides of his face and captured his lips in what could only be described as brutal passion. And just as fiercely as she kissed him, she just as quickly left his side running quickly towards the warriors under her command.

A puncture between wood and metal brought his attention to the ships. The first ship had attempted to cross the pike system, and with a lucky shot with the waves, it came crashing down into it. He heard yelling and screaming, and soon the ship crossed the rest of the way over, but was sinking rapidly. The other ships began crossing, trying to determine what had happened. Some ships crossed without hazard, the waves of the storm assisting them. Others faced the same fate. Almost thirty ships had been sunk from the pike system. Hopefully it meant at least one or two of the tusked beasts drowned with it. Determined they had passed the first test, the barbaric shrilling resumed, along with the pounding and clanging.

_Arbere, are you listening? It is I Eragon. _

_Argetlam, I hear you. _

_Good, I want you to fire only one of your projectiles, we need to rile the sea serpents. _

_Very well. _

Twenty seconds later, Eragon spotted the engorged metal ball flying through the air, creating a splash in the water. The Rider watched and waited, _where were they? _

_Be patient little one, the sea serpents attack from the depths, never straight on. _

Eragon watched, partly in horror, partly in happiness as a large sea serpent wrapped itself around the hull, curling itself around the ship. The Face-Painters screamed in terror, their victorious shrieks replaced by those of utter terror. One contraction of the sea serpent's muscles cracked the ship in half, drowning its users. Only two hundred and fifty feet to go before the catapults could begin firing. His honed eyes remained vigilant as more and more sea serpents rose to the surface, destroying the Face-Painters boats. Eragon could only imagine what happened beneath the surface of the water. Even as fearful as these men seemed, the Rider did not wish such a death for them, but it was inevitable.

The frantic serpents had crashed fifty or so boats in a matter of a half and hour. The raging sea slowed the barbarians' boats to moving a few inches per wave. The sea did its part quite well. It took sunk ships with its waves, causing the tops to crash into each other, breaking their balance and severely increasing their density past that of the salty ocean water. He predicted close to three hundred ships would remain when they went into the range of the catapults. The pike system was still working in place, catching close to five ships per hundred that crossed it. Others were punctured in a few places, resulting in minor sinking, but not before the ship would be able to anchor itself.

The shrilling and shrieking increased, but the man Eragon saw the night before remained calm. The Rider turned his gaze to that man, only to see him staring with a look of utter hatred directly at him. Rage boiled deep within him, Eragon knew, before the battle was over, one of them would kill the other. They had marked each other.

He scoped the water in front of him, their numbers were reduced significantly. So far, close to four fifty of the ships remained, meaning close to a little over fifty of the tusked beasts were unharmed, mathematically speaking.

_Arya, close to four hundred fifty of the original six hundred ships remain. Can you rely this to the other leaders? From the looks of it, I suspect there will be three hundred left before the catapults can fire at them. There should be close to thirty five of the tusked beasts remaining meaning there will be close to twenty four thousand foot soldiers from the original forty seven thousand. We will see about how many boats can make it to the shore once the catapults begin firing. _

_That is good news, has the storm let up any? _

_No, not one bit. My soldiers and I are now being sprayed by the ocean's raging waves as well. The sand is firmer, but can be deceivingly slippery. How are your soldiers faring?_

_They are uneasy. Some are meditating, others are whispering. Most are silent. And you? _

_The screaming from the seas has rendered my soldiers wary…they are silent as well. It seems the battle can quiet even the most noisy of Alagaesian races. _

_How long until the catapults can begin firing? _

_There is one hundred feet left until they are in range. Almost twenty minutes. _

_Eragon, is there a possibility the king sent some receivers for the armies of the Face-Painters? _

_Yes, I have sent a few elves from Feinster to cover possible routes for these messengers. If they were caught, they were taken to the Varden for questioning. _

_Is it possible the King himself could come? _

_Yes, but highly unlikely. The records show that the highest authority of the Face-Painters is not accompanying these soldiers. The king will not bow his head down to receive mere generals or warriors of a lower standing than he is. _

_True, how is Saphira? Are you listening? _

_Little princess, I am here and I listen. I am quite fine, the rain, lightning, and thunder do not breech my senses…unfortunately. _

_What do you mean Saphira? _

_I do not wish such a sight to befall any one I care about, much less my own Rider. Such utter destruction, brutal murder, even if it is for a greater cause is rather discerning. Do not worry for me, worry for those who are unlucky enough to survive the sinking of their ship, only to face the wrath of hungry sea serpents. Stay where you are little elf. I do not wish your eyes to bear witness to this macabre scene. _

_Be strong Saphira, it will be over soon. _

_I can only pray that Fate can hear that call. _

Arya sent her gratitude and love across the connection before receding from their minds, leaving it cold and bleak.

Fifty more feet, Eragon's hand turned cold, inflexible. The blood drained from his face, his eyes temporarily losing focus.

Thirty more feet. He braced himself for the new onslaught. He was close enough to pick out the blood spewing from the bodies of Face-Painters caught in the vicious teeth of the sea serpents.

Fifteen more feet until the catapults could begin firing. He readied himself for the command, ten more feet, five more, two more.

_Dwarves! _

_Argetlam, we hear and we answer. _

_Begin your firing. Release fast, do not waste time. Start now!_

The snaps of the catapults sounded as the metal projectiles took to the sky. A few in the water, but most hit some part in the thick swarm of ships. The projectiles gained enough velocity to drop straight through the deck. They made deafening cracks in the ships. Eragon bore witness to the increasing number of sinking ships. The catapults would slowly become less effective as the number of ships decreased and spread out. There had to be a way to get the ships together again.

Eragon stared at his surroundings, _Saphira I need to decrease the landing space. The ships will begin to move closer together if the available space to anchor their ships decreases. They will not have the time to turn their ship otherwise, they must start early with ships that size. _

_I see what you mean. _

_Eragon – finarel? Perhaps I may be of some assistance. _

_Glaedr-elda, what do you recommend? _

_The edges are made with rock, simply shift the rock inside a bit and place them on the sand making it dangerous for the ships to land in that direction. _

Eragon focused his energy on the rock formations. He said the words to disengage them from the main body, and strategically placed them along the shore rendering the space usable to less than half.

_Thank you Glaedr-elda. _

The golden dragon receded from his mind as Eragon's gaze turned back to the ships. That man's eyes narrowed, understanding what the young Rider was doing. Eragon returned his furious glare with a determined look. The ships behind that man assembled close together, ensuring that the catapults firing in their direction would have a high chance of making contact with the ships.

The forces of the pikes, sea serpents, catapults, and the storm itself brought the force of forty seven thousand to less than twenty five thousand. There were close to three hundred boats remaining before the dwarves began their onslaught. He recalculated the increasing mass of weapons. Lightning struck the water in the distance, illuminating a purple sky and an ever-raving sea. The clouds hung low and thick, gray and black their only colors. It should have been early morning, yet the sun hid itself, unable to bear witness to this battle. The horizon melded together, even the water reflected the darkness of the clouds. There was nothing in the distance separating water from sky.

Close to sixty boats sunk due to the catapults in a distance of seventy some odd feet. Calculating in his head again, Eragon predicted close to one hundred and twenty boats would be destroyed with the catapults because of the distance and the reduced area. Leaving one hundred and eighty left. Twenty - one tusked beasts and fifteen thousand soldiers.

He relayed the information back to Arya.

_I do not mean to be hopeless, but I predict we will be outnumbered by six thousand when they arrive to the shore, what happens from there I do not know. We will see how effective the ditches are in a bit, we have another forty-five minutes or so before they arrive. _

_We shall see the final numbers then. Are the catapults working to your satisfaction? _

_They exceeded my expectations. I thought they would have a lower hit rate. They have sunk over seventy as of right now, and I do believe they will sink close to one hundred twenty by the time they reach the shore. Anywhere between one hundred fifty to one eighty ships will remain. Then again, the success of the catapults is partly due to the changes in the shoreline I made. _

_Changes in the shoreline? What are speaking of?_

_The first round of catapults projectiles had a very high contact rate. We needed to keep that rate, however, as the numbers decrease, so does the target hit rate. The ships were spread and most of the projectiles hit the water. As such, Glaedr-elda advised me to break some rock off and decrease the land available for possible landing sites. Since the ships are of a relatively large size, it will take time to change their course to fit in that landing site. The ships that do not change their course will be stuck on the edges and will end up crashing against the rocks with the waves. So, the ships clustered again, and the high hit rate remained. _

Silence greeted their link. _Arya? What is it? _

_How long do we have until they reach you in land combat? _

_An hour or so, and hour and twenty I predict until we will call upon you. Is there something wrong? _

_The receivers have been caught, Blodhgarm reached the Queen and told her this. They were simply there to lead the Face-Painters to Feinster. _

_And? _

_That is not the final attack nor is it the attack the dark king was thinking as the killing blow. _

_Is there another army of these on the way? _

_No, the king has sent a force of nearly seventy thousand towards Feinster, they will arrive within three days. We must finish this battle off tonight and leave as early as possible back to the Varden. These soldiers are guarded with magicians, the receivers told us that there is are two exceedingly powerful Shades with them. _

_Do not fear them Arya Shadeslayer, we will not be alone when we fight them. The Battle of the Sea will be over by nightfall, or whatever this dark day's equivalent is. _

_I shall await your call. _

She slipped from his mind. Eragon looked at his dragon. Her keen eyes were trained on the ocean in front of them. The time passed quickly. The sky blazed purple with lightning. More than once the ground shook under the roar of the sky. The rain changed from sleet to hail to back to ice cold drops. The ground was solid from the ice like liquid. Even the sand seemed frozen except for the occasional shifting. He glanced behind him, the Urgals stared intensely at the scene before him. The Kull leaders watched him, exchanging long looks when they noticed him watching them. He gave them a slight reassuring nod before returning his gaze to the tumultuous waves before him.

_So this is not the worst of battles little one. _

_No I suppose not, this is however, the most tactical one. _

_There is a new uneasiness in your heart. What are you thinking of? _

_Two Shades and seventy thousand magician protected soldiers, that battle will be hard pressed to win. Granted all we need to do is hold our ground, but I fear that will far harder done. _

_That is another battle, focus on the one at hand. They are nearing the shore. _

The ships crowded the shore line, and its inhabitants exited the decks. Their battle cries resuming, the inhabitants started heading towards the formation of Urgals. Just as suddenly as they started, they stopped. Seventeen of the ships had their crew opening an entrance large enough for Saphira to fit twice in. From the darkness, emerged a beast like Eragon had never seen before.

The sight of a mix between a boar and an elephant, with tusks sharp enough to pierce through Saphira greeted his eyes. The nature of the beast was unnatural. The rider of the first of the beasts looked at Eragon, and its creature roared in return. It was a roar more fearsome than a lion's roar, more powerful. Yet there was nothing natural as there was in a lion's roar. Its voice was bred to initiate violence. Soon the other four legged monsters answered the call, heeding their want for blood.

Eragon could feel the ground shift underneath as the Urgals slowly lost their courage.

"STEADY!" Eragon cried to his charges. He mounted Saphira and she let out an answering roar, deafening out the cries of fear in the hearts of his soldiers.

Seventeen of the ships that survived the onslaught had these creatures on board. It was better than his prediction of twenty-one. These creatures would be far harder to defeat one of these than ten of the foot soldiers.

Initiating the battle sequence, Eragon pulled the bow he was gifted from the elves and shot an arrow straight through the rider of one other beasts. He fell to the side, pulling the reigns to one end. The beast went towards its left side where its rider hung lifeless, and knocked into another beast. The tusk pierced its face, instantly killing it, while the other monster was gorged in the stomach from the monster that crashed into it. Both were incapacitated. Those archers tried to fire answering shots, but neither could match the distance of an elven distance bow. Most of them consented to fight on the ground.

_The beasts are not intelligent creatures. Simple mindless animals. They will not be hard to kill, and these soldiers do not show prowess in their weapons even with their imposing physical appearance. _

_Do not discredit their appearance Saphira, they are strong to have controlled beasts like this._

Eragon turned his attentions back towards the charging warriors. The beasts were slow, clumsy things. He turned to his soldiers and raised his sword. The Urgals began their chanting, pumping their weapons in the air as he began to speak.

"THIS IS OUR WAR! URGALS! THIS IS YOUR BATTLEFIELD! PROVE YOUR METTLE, OR DO NOT RETURN HOME! URGALS! THIS BATTLE WILL SHOW WHO AMONG YOU IS THE STRONGEST! ARE YOU READY?!"

Normally the Rider would have chosen more inspirational words, but he served to rile his soldiers up. Urgals lived for a fight, and that is exactly what he was giving them. The beasts entered the field of ditches. They fell in, the spears stabbing their legs. They could not leave. Some soldiers fell in as well, spears passing effortlessly through their bodies.

Eragon braced himself, he turned to the Urgals and dismounted Saphira.

_This battle is better if I am on land. I will ride you later on, right now, these soldiers need to fight next to me. _

Saphira sent her agreement, _Be careful Eragon. I cannot lose you, I will the earth apart if I do. _

_Do not fear, I will not fall today. _

He watched as Saphira took the skies, easily flying above the arrows. The animals were far too heavy for her to pick up, and far too dangerous to set ablaze. Her claws would work later. But now, she would stay in the skies, being her Rider's eyes for any unexpected movements.

Eragon tore his gaze away and looked at the charging monsters, mammoths, he would call them, yet they contained none of their thick hair. With a roar, he set his sword in flames and charged the soldiers. The Urgals were close behind him. He cut swiftly through the staggered charge of foot soldiers. Carefully avoiding the trampling walk of the mammoths, Eragon looked for the leaders. When he could not find them he turned his attention to see how his charges were faring.

He grimaced as one swipe of the massive head took out at least seven Urgals. Formidable fighters as they were, the Urgals did not have the agility required to avoid and kill the beasts.

"The legs!" Eragon cried, "Attack their feet, right above the ground! Go for the legs!"

It was in vain, he was in a losing position. He had not wanted to call on the elves for a while, but circumstances were changing.

_Arya!_ He reached out with his mind and instantly connected with all the other elven leaders as well. _You must attack now, form groups of four and attack the legs as Commander Alinor said, the Urgals cannot hold them off. Hurry! We are losing soldiers quick! _

Arya sent her acknowledge and ordered her men to charge. She noiselessly drew her sword in one hand and knife in another, entering the fray. She crossed blades first with a particularly large man, painted white just like the others. Their strength matched that of the Kull, but even those were no match for an elven warrior. She jumped high in the air, her blade connecting with the neck of that man, instantly slicing it off.

She looked around for Eragon, trying to locate his position. She found his blazing sword in the middle of the field, far from her current position. He was fighting a group of large foot soldiers. She looked to her sides, Commander Alinor's company and her mother's had entered earlier than expected. They had to hold their ground or risk the soldiers having too much space to maneuver around. Slowly, but surely the elves backed up their fellow comrades and regained their position, leading to an unsteady stalemate.

Eragon watched as a group of elves nimbly ran underneath the mammoth, using magic to destroy the small, yet vital tendons in the mammoths legs. After the creature collapsed, the elves jumped on top and made quick work of the weaker archers on top. The Rider watched in horror as a mammoth made its way towards the Queen. She was far too busy stabbing the nearest Face-Painter to notice.

With a growl, Eragon released his sword with a cry of "Eldrvarya du solus, Könungr abr Brisingr!" A shot of flames drew attention to him and he made quick work of the Face – Painters attempting to confront him. He ran swiftly towards the Queen and engaged the mammoth before it had a chance to sway its head in her direction. The Queen turned her sword just in time to see Eragon standing in front of the mammoth, its charioteer smiled with a malevolent look, a gleam of blood in his eyes.

The Rider did not have time to get underneath and destroy the tendons. The Queen would be killed in that time. The beast took a swing at him, and Eragon grasped the tusks. He was immediately lifted off the ground as he remained attached to now extremely peeved beast. Eragon balanced himself on the raging beast, rendering it unable to move. Taking a small step back, he braced himself for the leap he was about to take. Brisingr flaming in his hand, his eyes turned hard. Time slowed as Eragon leapt off the tusks. His sword shot straight through the mammoth's master, killing him instantly. The archers began firing at him, but the arrow bounced off his smooth armor. The Könungr abr Brisingr, the second stage of his sword, moved at a speed even blurry to elves. Making easy work of the archers, Eragon grabbed the reins of the mammoth, turning it like he would have a horse towards another one.

Ensuring the beast would not take any unnecessary swipes, Eragon held the reins tight. The mammoth was directed towards another. The archers on the other beast noticed one of their own was not in control. Trying in vain to take the beast down, they fired at the mammoth's head. Enraged beyond belief, the mammoth rammed at full speed into another. One of the tusks spewed out blood and gutted the stomach of the mammoth. Redirecting the arrows back at the archers and the rider, Eragon plunged his sword deep into the mammoth's head. With a deafening roar and a thud, the beast fell to the eternal sleep.

Lithely jumping off, he recounted the number of beasts left. He had killed two, which lead to the deaths of another two. Three from the ditches. And the elves killed three in their formations. A total of ten down. He quickly found the seven bodies of the dead mammoths, but he could not find the seventh mammoth.

He glanced at Vanir. The elf had climbed up the arrows embedded on the legs of the beast, he swung to the ropes holding the platform to its back and cut the ropes. The platform fell off, crushing those residing on top. Vanir continued up the legs and made quick work of the conductor. He grappled at the reins to find his footing again. Wasting little time, the powerful swordsman sliced his weapon deep across the back of the mammoth's head. The muscles severed, the head lolled off, crushing some Face-Painters too slow to move out of the way. Vanir jumped off to the side, landing gracefully and resumed his fighting on the ground.

There should have been six left, and Eragon could only find five.

_Saphira! Can you find the last mammoth? I cannot. _

_Eragon, it is heading towards Arya. It has just changed its course. _

Glancing around in horror, Eragon swirled to see where his precious elf was. All the way across the battlefield. He began running, using spells to break and crack his opponents stupid enough to get in his way.

He could see the rampaging figure makes it way towards his mate. With a snarl and a leap, Eragon crossed the fifteen feet in one jump. He landed with a dull thud, his back turned to Arya and his face a nasty expression of hatred.

"Eragon…" He heard the melodious voice gasp in surprise to see him in front of her, in between the massive animal before her. Before she could say anything else, Eragon ran towards the animal, avoiding its head swings. He leapt close to twelve feet in the air, he brought his double edged sword in a whirling motion, separating the head from its neck. As the head rolled away, Eragon quickly grapped the ropes and kicked the rider to the ground. He jumped off to face the Face-Painter as the mammoth's body rolled away, crushing the platform and the people on top of it.

This man, this man that dared mark him had gone after his mate. That price Eragon would personally deliver. The large Face-Painter drew his sword, his eyes a look of malice unmatchable. Eragon circled him, baiting him. His opponent took the first swing. The sword was embedded in the sand, deep enough to be stuck. But just as strong as he had swung it, the man pulled it out and began again. The Rider easily avoided his strokes. He could see the battle raging around him grow even more tumultuous. Fluidly moving around the man, Eragon slashed and cut the Face-Painter down. When the dark-skinned ferocious look was replaced with a look of defeat, the Rider stood in front of him, his gaze cold.

With a quick slash of his blade, the Face-Painter's body was cut in half. He turned to Arya, she was bloodied, but it was not her own. Locking gazes of understanding, they ran towards the next body of opponents. Arya's warriors had since abandoned her, they moved along with the fighting sequences, trying to out maneuver their opponents.

_Eragon! _

Saphira's voice rang through his ears.

_Eragon, we need to finish off the rest of the beasts. So far there have only been five thousand foot soldiers released, meaning the other ten thousand are still in the boats, waiting to attack in the second wave. And you have lost many, many Urgals in the fray. _

The Rider looked around in dismay. His dragon was right, his Urgals' numbers dwindled to half their original size. The elves numbers did not seem reduced much, but then again they were not that numerous to begin with.

_Do not call the humans yet, we will need them for later. Eragon, I am getting restless up here while you fight away. I am itching to sink my claws into something, and we need to kill them quickly. _

_Very well Saphira, come down, be careful of the arrows. _

Saphira swooshed down with a bellow. Finally, finally she would show those beasts exactly what it means to be powerful. She flew close to the ground, her claws shoving a beast to the ground, digging in its flesh. Screams from the archers echoed, but their arrows were stationary in surprise. She headed towards Eragon. Seeing her approach, he leapt from the ground and swung himself into saddle will Saphira rid Arya of her opponents. The elf bowed her head in gratitude briefly before engaging again in the battle in a swirl of graceful movements.

Eragon tore his eyes from the beautiful, yet terrible sight and focused on the rest of the beasts. Four remained. Several Urgals who continuously prodded its sides while somewhat avoiding its claws were attacking one. Soon, a flurry of seven Urgals jumped on top of the beast and beat the archers. Turning their attention to the beast, they pushed it over on a side, and began beating it with their spiked clubs. Three left.

Commander Alinor led a team of three others executing his plan. Two elves moved to the left, and the others lagged to the right. The left headed ones made for the last legs, slicing and removing the mammoth's ability to move. The elves that headed right did the same for the front legs. Rolling out from underneath, the elves jumped to the platform and fought the archers. The elf commander then silenced the beast by cutting off circulation of oxygen. Two beasts were left.

Saphira changed course to nearest one. It was lighter than the others, as if starved from the trip overseas. She picked it up, flew some ten feet above the ground and headed towards the sea. She dropped it when a sea serpent jumped to attack her. Gaining altitude, she headed back to the battle. The last mammoth was surrounded by Arya, Vanir, and the Queen.

Wasting no time, Saphira swooped down and knocked the beast on its side. She pulled off the platform of archers on its side, temporarily dragging the beast. Eragon jumped off and stabbed the beast through its skull. It looked at him with maniacal eyes, as if its sanity was tempered with, before its life left the beast.

The archers were burning under Saphira's flame.

_I should burn the ships. _

_Do not head that way. You were lucky when you did because you had that beast in your mouth, but now that is not the case. They are getting restless and they will attack you. Stay away. _

_As you wish, Rider. _

Eragon turned to face the crowd. His armor was dripping in blood, he could not tell if it was his own.

"You are bleeding."

The Rider turned his gaze to the speaker, the elf with raven black tresses and emerald he loved so intensely. He glanced down at his hand, it was doused in his own blood, dripping freely from a wound he received from jumping on the tusk of a mammoth.

"It is no matter, iet Drottningu. I will care for it later."

If she was to reply, she was cut off by the sounds of the battle horns. They looked towards the sea. Soldiers, soldiers like the one Eragon had marked filed out. They had the strength of a Kull, perhaps even stronger, and there were many of them.

Not waiting, Eragon cried out, "URGALS! REFORM YOUR RANKS!"

Surprisingly, they immediately responded. Moving back fifty feet from their original positions, the Urgals reformed ranks. From the original five companies, enough to make two remained. He looked away guiltily. Having them open the battle was not the best choice, had he asked the elves, perhaps they would not have lost as many.

_You needed both the elves and the Urgals. They would have lost the same number anyway. _

_Thank you Saphira. _

Eragon watched in dismay as the rest of the ten thousand soldiers filed out. It was time to call on the reinforcements. He shot orders at the elven commanders, telling them to reform their ranks, flanking the Urgals.

He sent his mind towards General Halton, ordering him to make his way towards the battlefield. Then, finally, he reached the dwarves, ordering them to abandon their firing and join the combat field. They fell back in formation, waiting as the stronger Face-Painters made their way towards the battle. He mounted Saphira and stood in front of the armies. They had seven thousand of their warriors left, against ten thousand soldiers of the Face-Painters. Normally the chances would not have been so bad, however the continued strong gales hindered Saphira's flying abilities and any fire she breathed could very well be carried away in the direction of the wind, causing far more damage than good. Saphira's fire would have to be contained during this battle. The ditches had been uncovered, meaning the Varden's soldiers had no more tricks up their sleeves. It was their warriors pitted against the Face-Painters. Their tired, battle weary soldiers against ten thousand fresh faces. The white painted dark skinned men began their slow walk, carefully avoiding the ditches filled with their weaker comrades. As they passed the last one, nearly one hundred feet in front of the Varden's defenses, they broke into a run, permanently breaking formation. Raising his flaming double edged sword, Eragon raised yells and cheers. Saphira took off, charging head first into the fray as they neared. Not doubting their leader, the soldiers followed his command, charging after them. Saphira cleaved off five soldiers. However that was the only time she could charge without fear of striking an ally. She stayed on the ground, snapping her teeth and using her massive armed tail to knock her enemies down.

Eragon's sword moved into a frenzy as he began his new attack formation. Unfortunately, the constant presence of allies hindered his ability to create a spell that killed only their opponents. He would either have to name each warrior with their name, and kill the soldiers that threatened each one of them. Eragon was unable to simply say warriors of the Varden because the Varden did not include all entities, nor was it part of the Ancient Language. The Varden was temporary and therefore did not have a solid body or true name. Unlike the previous time, simply saying malicious intent could kill every ally he ever had. So, the Rider consented to keep away from major magic and fight on land.

Hacking through a soldier, Eragon glanced at his surroundings. Death bodies covered the area around him. He jumped to an open area and fought off the onslaught. Alongside ten to fifteen Urgals, they attacked a particularly solid looking group of Face-Painters. Each were close to eight feet in height, with at least one hundred fifty pounds of pure, raw muscle formed on their body. Initiating the fight with them, Eragon temporarily tore his gaze away from the oncoming opponents and sought to find Arya.

It was customary that he check upon his friends in battle. The few he had let, he treasured beyond measure. Arya and Lord Däthedr were fighting off a group of ten Face-Painters. They never let themselves be surrounded.

The Rider stabbed another Face-Painter through his face and returned his gaze to his mate. She was fine, jumping nimbly from opponent, dancing away with a grace unable to be imitated. Lord Däthedr, on the other hand, was losing ground quickly. A small slip of his footing on a foe that recently fell next to him made him lose his balance. He slipped, but caught himself in time. However, since he was protecting Arya's back, as she was doing the same for him, a Face-Painter flew past his defenses and charged at an unaware Arya.

Fearing for her life, Eragon sent a bolt of lightning straight to that Face-Painter's heart. She turned milliseconds late. Upon seeing the electrocuted man, she looked past and saw Eragon's outstretched hand and look of terror. Nodding at her mate, sending a silent thanks, she returned her attention back to battle. She was frustrated with him…he still had not healed his bleeding arm.

A leader of a group quickly ran over to her, shrilling at her. These men seemed devoid of words. They acted and behaved like animals, no communication besides primal grunting and barbaric yelling escaped their mouths. The Face-Painter was easily seven to eight feet, sinewy muscles roped his chest. He was thicker than Eragon, but held none of the elegance. It was pure, raw muscle. The man pulled two curved blades and began spinning at her. The blades were moving at an incredibly fast pace, but no match for her swift elven eyes. She blocked and parried the attacks easily, but she was losing ground. The Whirlwind finally ceased his tornado like movements. He jumped in the air, spinning as he did so. He brought his arm down, the blade pointed down in an effort to stab her.

But Arya had already predicted his move. She rolled forward, her body was six inches from its original position. Her back was to the flying man's front, but he was unaware of her vulnerability. Instead, his sword connected with pure air, and Arya's left hand, grasping the knife tightly, plunged the small blade deep within the Whirlwind man's heart. When the man's heart made no visible signs of slowing anytime soon, Arya twirled, her long, skinny blade shot through the man's neck, decapitating him. She pulled both her blades out and returned to felling multiple, yet weaker enemies.

Islanzadi paused in her battle, watching her daughter carefully. She moved like her father, graceful, strong, perfect in her movements. Arya was a warrior to fear. She doubted in any of the other elves could have taken out a man as swift and strong as the Tornado like one as fast. Her momentary distraction was ended when she heard a swoosh of a blade close to her. She turned, sword raised. A Face-Painter stood, frozen with a blade protruding through it. As the man fell, the Queen recognized her second in command, Vanir as the owner of the sword.

He locked gazes with her, a small gesture of camaraderie between generals, and moved past her to rapidly fell three more opponents. The Queen resumed her fighting, lest she needed to be saved again. It was twice in the battle already, once by Eragon, and now once by Vanir.

Eragon gazed behind him as the horn sounded from the dwarves and the humans, they had finally arrived. Seeing the battle already commence, they began running, eager to use the adrenaline pumping through their veins. The full seven thousand of their force was now in play.

He turned his attention back towards the battle at hand. So far, neither he nor Saphira noticed any magicians among the crowd. It was no surprise, as Galbatorix had not planned this as the deciding factor. It was only a weakening stage. What the king had not counted on, was the increased support of the dwarves, elves, and Urgals. Each of the races had led new, fresh warriors into battle.

The Rider noticed the decreased numbers of white painted men around him. He actually had to search the crowd to find a pair to kill.

_Saphira, fly up and tell me how many are left of our enemy. _

The Sapphire dragon threw some enemies with her teeth and took the skies, her tail knocking some foes to dared attack her from behind.

_They have half left, and your are still seven thousand. _

_Good, that means that we did not lose many elves or Urgals in the land fighting._

_Eragon, the only trouble we had were with the beasts. These soldiers are not particularly talented, just fearsome and strong. They use pure strength, no skill as a fighting method. _

_You are right, come back down, we still have to fight through the rest. _

_Eragon, my Rider, look. The sun's rays have shone through. _

He looked towards the sky, the blood of his most recent opponent splattering his armor. She was indeed right. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, yet no longer did the sky turn purple. The clouds had just broken, and the first rays of the sun to reach the earth surrounded him in a halo, as if protecting him from his enemies. He glanced to the opposite side and saw a rainbow spreading across the continuously breaking cloud formation.

His strength renewed, Eragon drew upon his magic as the Grey Folk and moved through his opponents like wild fire in a dry forest. With a speed no elf could hope to imitate, Eragon struck his enemies hard and fast. The rain became warm, instantly heating his skin and bringing a feeling back to his stinging face. Cold sweat poured down his face, but were undone by the new rain.

Saphira returned from the sky, and landed with a thud next to him. With the wind nearly gone, she could use fire. However, she needed to be careful for the battle had been going on long enough for every one to be out of formation. She burned the enemies around her, but opted for physical attacks most of the time. They played off each other. Eragon would feign weakness, drawing a crowd, and Saphira would replace him as he rolled to the other side, dousing the numerous soldiers in flames. They nearly killed a hundred men like this.

From the position of the sun, Arya deduced they had been in this battle for nearly seven hours. It was the longest fight she had ever been in, and her muscles grew weary from striking with the ferocity required to fell her attackers. She should have died twice. Once, when the mammoth ran at her, and she had not the time to call for help, and a second time when her co-commander lost his footing allowing a breech in their defenses. And twice, she was saved by her mate. She could not be sure, but Arya estimated he killed five of the massive creatures single-handedly, and one with the help of Saphira who killed two herself, totaling eight.

She sighed, that pair was nearly as reckless as they seemed, but they had the skill required to even attempt a feat like that. Finding herself far too tired to protect all her flanks and remain coherent, she slowly fought her way over Eragon. His gaze followed her as she made her way over. Eventually standing next to him, she faced the opposite direction and began felling foes on his backside.

Excited at the chance to possibly kill two commanders, Face-Painters flocked them. They could not freely move without leaving the other open. Seeing their predicament, Saphira made her way over.

_Arya, get down. _Eragon's voice interrupted her concentration and she was dragged down moments later. The heat from Saphira's fire evaporated the chill in her body. She felt Eragon pin her down, his arm protecting her head and his body covering hers. When the last of their enemies had been charred beyond repair, they lifted themselves up and resumed their battle.

No thanks needed to be said, this far into the war, none were required.

With the renewed strength from the humans and dwarves, the Varden made quick work of the last of the Face-Painters. They had captured a few leaders, the ones with the bulk of the white paint. Eragon wasted no time with words. He entered their mind and flicked through memories. When he found nothing of importance, he left the man alone. They were not his to deal with. He already had thousands of deaths on his conscience.

Eragon scanned his surroundings. He was suddenly sick with his sights. Blood soaked the ground, the sand absorbing it. Bodies lay mangled and decapitated around the battlefield. He was weary from the battle, it lasted nearly nine hours. Famished with all the fighting, the soldiers of the Varden agreed to make their way back towards camp. They needed to eat, and there was nothing left for them near the sea. The bodies would decompose, but later, as of right now, taking care of the injured was first priority. He found his mate and kissed her soundly. They both smelled like death, and looked even worse. But all that mattered was that they survived another battle. Eragon removed Saphira's armor for her, she wanted to sleep comfortably under the peaceful raindrops. Apparently, she had no appetite after a battle so gruesome.

Eragon and Arya, along with the rest of the warriors were not so. The soldiers found the food storage, gulfing down bread and ale at an unbelievable rate. Eragon grabbed two large pieces of bread and handed one to Arya. They would be nourished, but not yet. They had the injured to heal. Arya turned her gaze to Eragon's injured arm. She stopped him and led him back to their tent that they left not so long ago. She removed the armor on his armor and cleaned the wound. She could heal it, but not while dirt and debris still clung. She could heal the skin, but that would trap the unclean particle in his body forever. She poured a little faelnirv on a clean cloth and pressed it against his skin, slowly moving back and forth removing all the particles. Cleaning her own hands, she pressed one over the wound and healed it. Arya looked at her mate, she was still peeved he had not taken care of it sooner.

Whatever annoyance shattered as he reacted to her actions.

"I have never had that experience before."

"Being cut?" 

"Nay, being loved so much that even a rather shallow cut would be the cause of worry."

He raised a hand, encasing her cheek in it. Even with the cold of the wind, his hand was surprisingly warm. Their tender moment was short lasted however.

"We need to go see to the injured."

Eragon nodded and stood up, he removed the rest of his armor, but kept his sword attached. They visited a large tent and made their rounds with the soldiers. Most were human. The elves either healed themselves, or were killed. The Urgals usually did not care to be healed, or did not care enough to remove themselves from the war. Healing a dwarf was rare, but there were a few scattered here and there. General Huvin was among them and surprisingly General Halton and Commander Alinor were standing next to him.

The Rider made his way over.

"How did the battle fare to you generals?"

"Quite fine, although I might add that our dwarf friend here gave us a little scare."

General Halton was in a better mood, able enough to joke, but the openness of their friendship was startling to Eragon. He wanted all the races to be this way, joined in camaraderie. General Huvin suffered a cut on his arm. It was deep and bleeding profusely, but Commander Alinor had healed it, even with his weary body. Eragon watched as his eyes filled with concern over the depth of the cut, but he nonetheless healed his friend with a careful eye. As Commander Alinor exited the tent, he stationed a guard outside, and ordered him to tell him when General Huvin awoke from his slumber. They finished with the others relatively quickly.

Arya and Eragon made their way over to the war council tent. Lord Däthedr, the Queen, Vanir, Commander Alinor, General Halton, and Chief Freowin stood waiting. All had slight smiles on their faces as the pair walked in. Eragon bowed to the leaders in respect and clasped Vanir's forearm as a sign of greeting a victorious warrior.

"And so the Battle of the Sea ends in our favor."

Eragon wanted nothing more than to rejoice at their success, but the reality of the situation was far more pressing. In a solemn voice he began with the dismal news.

"As we know now, this battle is the beginning of a stronger force heading towards Feinster as we speak. The Empire's soldiers will arrive in three to four days. We need to leave as soon as possible. The warriors are tired, they cannot travel tonight, but we need to move early tomorrow morning. Does anyone know if the catapults can be transported fast?"

Commander Alinor answered, "From what I remember Shurtugal, no they are not transported fast. However, they have wheels and because of the relatively flat surface, once we pass the sand and move to grass, we can have them in Feinster in a day. That is, if all the soldiers help."

"Very well, we will start that tomorrow then."

The generals nodded their agreement and turned to file out of the room. Eragon and Arya stayed with the Queen. She had already moved towards the mirror and scryed Nasuada.

The leader of the Varden was delighted to see them, but apprehensive when she only saw the Queen. Islanzadi assured her that Eragon and Saphira were alive, well, and would be returning the next day two hours after daylight. She ended the contact quickly, saying Eragon would explain in full when he returned. Hand in hand, and walking extremely slowly, the couple made their way to their tents. Eragon took the straps of his armor off and unpacked some clean clothes.

He looked wearily towards his mate and groggily said, "I do not know about you, but I need a bath."

Swaying on his feet, he picked up clean clothes and headed to a secluded part of the ocean, a place Saphira had shown him earlier and where sea serpents would not swim in because of its shallowness. Arya trailed after him, mimicking his movements. She needed to wipe the blood from body as well. Eragon stripped the blood soaked clothes from his body and stepped in the cool water, a sensation of pure pleasure taking over him. Arya quickly entered as well. She sank towards the ground, lowering herself to neck level and began washing her hair out of the grim accumulated from the war.

Eragon swam over, from where he found the strength to swim from, she did not know. He ran his hands through her hair, gently scraping her scalp. He washed her hair out before repeating the same with his own hair. He moved away from her, cleaning the grim from his body. Eragon walked to the bank and pulled their clothes from the ground. Soaking each one, he tried in vain to get the blood to come out. Arya's leather was easy to do, the blood never got in. He rinsed it and dried it with magic. Eragon did not want the leather to be permanently damaged by the water. His own undershirt was stained beyond repair. He shrugged and threw it back on the bank. After Arya finished removing the evidence of war from her body, they exited the water and slipped into their clean clothes. The tired Rider picked up the wet clothes and linked his hand with his mate's as they made their way over to the tent. Laying the clothes to dry, Eragon followed Arya quickly into the tent.

Far too tired to do anything else, Eragon collapsed on the bed next to her. He slipped his arm around her tired body and snaked his neck around to capture her lips. He pulled away, only to see her emerald orbs staring lovingly at him. He kissed her one last time before laying down and closing his exceedingly weary eyes. Succumbing to his sleep, Eragon had no worries that night for all he loved and cared for had survived the Battle of the Sea.


	9. Chapter 34 Little Time to Rest

Chapter 34: Little time for rest

The battle ended in the early evening, so it was no surprise when Arya awoke well before sunrise, and was still well rested. She snuggled against the warm body next to her, there was simply too much space separating them. When he made no motion to tighten his arms, the princess turned in his arms and wrapped her arms around his lower back and buried her face in his chest. He finally awoke from his slumber, no doubt to her restless shifting next to him. She felt his arms tighten around her, but his eyes remained closed. He rested his chin on her head, and quickly fell back asleep.

The princess remained still, not wanting to disturb her mate's peaceful sleep. He was far too tired from fighting for nine hours consistently. From what she knew of his Grey Folk powers, the released form of his sword required a source of energy, undoubtedly Eragon, and while the Rider was very powerful, a constant drain of energy would eventually drain him, especially if the duration was for nine hours of constant movement and fighting. He had all the reason to still be sleeping.

_He is still asleep, is he not? _

Arya felt Saphira's massive conscious flow through her mind.

_Yes, he is. _

_I was worried about that. Let him sleep just for another half hour, we need to be off. Nasuada is expecting us a little after the sun rises. There is another battle to plan. How are you little elf? _

_I am quite well, to say the least. I feel well rested. _

_It is hard to imagine such an anticipated battle has finally ended. Yet it is harder to discover that there is another battle commencing soon. _

Arya ran her hands gently through her Rider's hair, careful not to wake him up. She was caressing his face, savoring the feeling of being so close to him without fear.

Saphira's amusement wafted through their link, but the elf was past feeling embarrassed for thinking of her mate.

_Sorry Saphira, I was distracted. _

_It is no matter. Eragon and I have fought our battles together, always. Although that number may not be numerous, the magnitude is the same. I am glad we have each other to get over such horrid sights during the battle. _

_What happened Saphira? When I spoke to you, your voice was filled with sadness, much like it is now. _

_My memories are not for your eyes, although Eragon will show you. I do not mean to undermine your strength, but I care too much to let them be a bother. My Rider knows, and he has protected me against visualizing them over and over again. However, if it was possible, those memories I would keep from even my little one himself. _

Arya reluctantly slipped out of bed and made her way over to Saphira. The elf princess rubbed her snout affectionately, soothing her distress.

Saphira nuzzled her hand and then touched her forehead, _Thank you dear princess. _

They turned at the sound of the tent material creaking at movement. Eragon emerged from the flap.

"My pillow moved." It was statement with a smile on his face.

Arya rolled her eyes at him, but reached a hand out, beckoning him closer. Eragon glided to her outstretched hand. His own hand skimmed her entire arm length, and moved down her back until she fit snugly underneath his shoulder. With his other hand, Eragon scratched Saphira's ear.

_Little ones, get ready soon, we must leave for the Varden. I shall hunt then. _

Eragon nodded, but he remained where he was, reluctant to start the day. He felt his mate turn towards him and close her arms around him, leaning her head on his chest. They made their to Saphira's side and sat down next to her warm belly, a sharp contrast to cool breeze of the sun deprived morning. Saphira wrapped a wing over their dreary bodies and they fell asleep again.

Minutes later…

"Shurtugal! Drottningu!"

Eragon awoke with a jump, had he been in the tent, the voice would have been muffled, but considering the he was directly behind the speaker, his voice was far louder than it should have been.

"We are behind you."

The elf gracefully turned and discovered their sleeping figures underneath Saphira's wing. The dragon had since lifted her massive wing up.

"The Queen wants you to know that the Varden is expecting you in four hours."

"Thank you."

"Also, the general's are meeting one last time to greet you farewell, and then make arrangements to join you again in Feinster."

"We will be there shortly."

The elf bowed and walked away, gracefully avoiding any clusters of people in opposing directions.

"Saphira, will you come to this meeting?"

She blew smoke through her nostrils, _Of course not. I have other, far more interesting things to do then sit around and have others tell me goodbye or see you soon. _

"Fine, we will return shortly."

Eragon was well rested with his ten hours of sleep. It was more than normal. He estimated it to be around four in the morning. The camp was bustling only because the injured needed to be monitored, but there was no other reason as to why everyone was up so early. The pair walked, hands laced together, it had become quite a common sight for everyone. Heading towards the Queen's regal tent, they swiftly entered at the sound of voices in light conversation.

"Ah, the hero of the battle returns."

Eragon looked towards the speaker, General Halton. Giving a slight smile, he replied artfully, "Nay, the heroes of the battle are those who fought despite horrid chances, every soldier here is a hero."

"That may be so, however, I do not think the other heroes felled five crazed beasts of their own." Eragon turned to Chief Freowin. He should have expected a comment like that from the dwarf leader. He was beginning to see the subtle differences in the races. Elves prided themselves on balance and control. Dwarves prided themselves on prowess at whatever they did. In this case, Chief Freowin was awarding Eragon with the title of the most heroic warrior in battle because he brought down five of those creatures.

"Actually, it was three, the other two died because I pitted one against the other twice."

The other generals let out a small laugh, while one patted Eragon on his back. The Queen raised a hand, letting the group fall into an easy silence.

"The battle is won, however the war is not. We leave at sunrise in four hours towards Feinster. Those who specifically were sent to the sea for this battle may make their way home if they wish, the others will march victoriously towards Feinster and join the Varden's forces there. Eragon Shadeslayer, Arya Drottningu, and Saphira Bjartskular will leave earlier to help plan the defenses. The moving of the catapults will be a group effort and we should make it to Feinster within the morning of the next day. Until then, we bid you three goodbye and we shall await until we tomorrow.

Eragon gave a slight bow to the Queen and the members in the tent before turning to leave. Arya gave a quick hug to her mother, who did not seem to be expecting such a display of affection, but returned it nevertheless. Eragon felt a strong hand stop lay on his shoulder. He turned to see Vanir. The tall elf briefly embraced him, uncharacteristic for any elf to do to someone outside of their immediate family. The Rider returned the gesture and pulled away.

"Good bye, Vanir, may the stars watch over you."

"Until we see each other again, Eragon. May the winds make your travel swift."

They exchanged smiles as the Rider waited for his mate to join him. Eragon lifted the flap for Arya, a look of immeasurable love etched in his eyes. She exited the tent, giving him a similar expression and walked out, pulling his hand with her.

"I love you."

She closed her eyes, savoring his words. He told at the most unexpected of times, as if the feeling was always there, never dying or rising in a particular situation.

"And I you dear Rider."

_How was the meeting?_ Saphira's voice moved through their heads, its usual luster and vibrance returning.

_Quite pointless actually, but well worth it. _

_An oxymoron in itself. Pack you things, I can hardly wait to hunt in a few hours. _

_Are you feeling well enough?_

_Of course I am, I am a dragon after all. _

Amusement lacing his voice he replied, _That is precisely why I asked. _

_Oh little one, what do I have to teach you of mocking a dragon? Especially one as powerful as me. _

Knowing she would never hurt him, as he would never hurt her, he confidently replied, _I have not suffered any adverse consequences. _

Saphira's tail smacked him soundly. He was launched back five feet or so, but he was laughing uncontrollably. Arya was smirking at him, she already knew Saphira's intention and she smoothly let go of his hand so she would not go flying with him.

When her Rider refused to let up his laughter, Saphira mockingly raised her tail once again. Profusely apologizing, he walked up and kissed her snout, rubbing her side affectionately. Arya entered the tent and began packing their clothes and weapons into several different bags. Normally, she would have used magic to roll everything up in one sack, but that was inconvenient for Saphira's saddle. Eragon walked in, packing their armor up. Luckily the dwarves under Chief Freowin had consented to move Saphira's armor for her. She could easily have worn it, but then carrying the other materials would have caused her to make a few trips. Eragon attached the tent and two bags underneath the saddle on her against her warm abdomen. Arya swung into her place, and Eragon tarried a bit to ensure nothing would fall off. He followed quickly on.

Wasting little time, Saphira took off, her large wings catching the wind as her hind legs launched her body into the air. Arya felt Eragon's arms encircle her waist, pressing her closer against his warm body. She marveled at his ability to warm her even in the heat of a summer day.

_Little ones, shall we try our hands at some more riddles? _

_Saphira, do you ever run out of riddles? _

_No, I have infinite number of them, and I never tire of them either. Which one shall we start with? _

Arya began rubbing her head, already anticipating a headache from thinking too much. Eragon kissed her neck, causing her to shiver, and moved one hand to ease the tension from her head.

_Ah, I have one. Are you ready? It does not matter anyway. Here is the question. What can you keep and give at the same time? _

_Your heart. _

_No little elf, you do not physically cut your heart out, metaphorically yes, but this is no object. _

_Your word. _

_I am impressed Eragon, I did not expect you to get that one. _

_A Rider impressing his dragon, it is quite a mark in history. _

_Shut it, here is your next one. I am over a thousand years old, yet I live and die with each month. _

_That one was easy, it is the moon. _

_Quite right you are Arya Drottningu. Let me find a harder one. Ah, I break even when you say my name. _

_Arya, what are things that break? _

_Glass, walls, clouds, arguments…_

_Walls? When have you broken a wall? _

_Oh, when I was little I carved a hole in the wall of my bedroom._

Laughter peeled into his voice, _And why, iet Drottningu naunen, would you ever do that? _

_I was a curious child Eragon, I wanted to see what was inside. _

_Oh Arya, how I wish I could have seen how you were as a child? But alas, I cannot. I shall only have to imagine from what our children do to discern what other mischievous tasks you took up. _

_Very funny, have you any idea as to the answer of the riddle? _

_No, this really was a hard one Saphira, thanks for that. We will both be getting headaches now. _

_Oh just think a bit longer, and now the answer is not any of the things Arya mentioned earlier. _

Eragon thought for a minute, and then his eyes brightened at the prospect, _Oh, Saphira is it…oh wait never mind. _

He fell back into a deep thought, _breaking, speaking, breaking and speaking. Breaking could be ended, speaking is most likely literally speaking. So speaking ends something. Oh, hang on, Saphira is the answer silence? _

_Yes, dear Rider, the answer is silence. The next is a longer one, be careful to heed my words. _

_I move you forward, I hold you back. _

_I weave through valleys, destroy the formations on a desert. _

_I originate from motion, yet I can be stronger by the sea. _

_I am a catalyst for life, yet I can destroy in the right circumstances._

_Lovers can bask in my presence, or hide in each other's arms in fear of my ferocity._

_I wail and cry, citing the greatest of fears in the fiercest of animals._

_I am omnipotent, and I can never cease to exist._

_What am I? _

_Eragon I expect you to get this one, you are the one who answered the other one like this correctly. _

_I have a headache Saphira. Arya why not take a whack at it? _

_Very well, I understand that my mate, who promised to help me in any situation, has obviously broken his promise and will abandon me in such a dire state. _

Arya's mock anger turned haughty as she faced her mate with a raised eyebrow. Eragon loved everything about her, even her anger, especially her anger. The way she turned from loving to demanding to angry was enough to turn a man to water. He was already melted, and most likely evaporated. He captured her lips, trying to express in actions what he could not find in words. The Rider deepened the kiss, his hand rested on the back of her neck pulling her closer. Her hands rested on the sides of his face, returning his kiss with as much fervor.

_You win, iet Drottningu, let us see what we can do with Saphira's extremely difficult riddle. Alright, I move you forward and hold you back. That could mean a variety of different things, we shall return to it later. I weave through valleys, that could mean a river, but there are no rivers in a desert. It increases by the sea and comes from motion. And it wails, it cannot be a storm, because they do cease to exist at a point, but return soon. And a storm is not a catalyst for life, no matter how terribly beautiful. Saphira, I am clueless. _

_Then listen again, and think this time that you are surrounded in it this very moment. _

_I move you forward, I hold you back. _

_I weave through valleys, destroy the formations on a desert. _

_I originate from motion, yet I can be stronger by the sea. _

_I am a catalyst for life, yet I can destroy in the right circumstances._

_Lovers can bask in my presence, or hide in each other's arms in fear of my ferocity._

_I wail and cry, citing the greatest of fears in the fiercest of animals._

_I am omnipotent, and I can never cease to exist._

_What am I? _

_Do you have any ideas yet? _

_Could it be…no that is not right. Fine, take this guess and tell me if I am close or not. Is it air? _

_In what form little one? _

…_Wind? Perhaps? _

_Exactly right, see I knew you would decipher it. _

_Arya here is one for you. __I am the beginning of sorrow, and the end of sickness. You cannot express happiness without me, yet I am in the midst of crosses. I am always in risk, yet never in danger. You may find me in the sun, but I am never out of darkness. _

_I can find no possible answer other than the letter S. _

_Right you are elf princess. Have you had your headaches yet? _

_Yes, our heads are painful from your riddles. _

_Fine the last one, and a quite easy one if you ask me. _

_No one is asking Saphira, you are far better at riddles than any of us here. _

_Hmpf, what lives with a body, hears and repeats without ears, and speaks without a mouth. _

_It is an echo Saphira. _

_Very good, and as promised that is the last riddle. Next time, however, I shall think of harder ones, those were far too easy if the two of you could solve them within two hours. _

_Saphira, I must give you credit for making feel like I should have feigned stupidity. _

_Do not fear Little One, I have the utmost confidence in your abilities to solve my riddles, even if you do not. I enjoy the challenge of finding those riddles that you have a harder time with. _

_And I enjoy the task of solving them. _

_Little princess, how are you faring in this flight?_

_Quite well Saphira, I am beginning to love flying. It is…one of the most memorable experiences one could ever have. I am peaceful here, without a care in the world with those who I love the most and who love me the most. _

Eragon's arms tightened around her, and she gently rested her hands over his arms. He smiled against her neck and removed her arms, holding them out straight, catching the wind. Saphira took off with a burst of speed, pirouetting in the sky. They laughed, crying in joy for their sudden period of weightlessness. Saphira returned to a steady pace and carried the two the rest of the way to the Varden.

Arya and Eragon made their way to Nasauda's room. Saphira had landed in the dragonhold, and they had already put their possessions in their room by the time she left to hunt. Before they were in hearing distance of anyone, Arya pulled Eragon to the side.

"We need to talk about some things before we enter."

"My ears are yours, what do you wish to talk of?"

"Eragon, I know you may not like hearing this, but you must withdraw support from Nasuada. You are the Lord Rider, and it is improper for you to be under anyone's command. You are a unique race, and considering you are the only one left of your kind, you cannot be under fealty by oath."

"How can I tell Nasuada this?"

"She is a leader, do not discredit her strength. She will understand."

Eragon nodded, it was true. As the last Rider, it was improper for him to be in anyone's command, let alone that of a human. He knocked on the Varden leader's door and waited to be answered to. Surprisingly, Nasuada herself answered. She gave a brief smile and let the door open for him and Arya to enter.

"My liege, before we discuss other matters, we have something of the utmost importance to discuss."

"Very well, continue."

"The death of my late masters has come as a bit of a shock, leaving my following request rather late in nature. As the Lord Rider, and Master Rider of Vroengard, I cannot, in good conscience be subject to any leader. No one has control over the Riders, and since I have sworn an oath of fealty to you, your control over me has now been rendered improper. I humbly request you to release me from my oath, even though you have my word that I will continue to fight alongside the Varden, but not as your subject."

"I understand, and I grant your request. You are hereby released from your oath. Now, tell me all of the happenings of the battle."

Eragon went into detail of the how the battle commenced and the reasons they eventually prevailed over. He talked for an hour or so, Arya only commented briefly.

"Triumphant again. I am glad that we have overcome this battle scene. I do not wish to keep you here for long, but I wanted to pass along that a war council will meet noon tomorrow. I require that both of you are there, not as my subject Eragon," she added quickly, "but as my fellow leader. I am finding it far more difficult to hold off the fluctuations of power. I have the Varden under my control, yet my advisers consistently seek to lessen that hold."

"Do you suspect anyone?"

"Of trying to sabotage me, no. Of trying to take over the Varden yes. Trianna for one, is power hungry. King Orrin is losing his power over his people as our effort turns towards the Varden and it is quite plausible that he is bitter about losing his control. But do not worry, I can manage. As long as you are a separate entity and support me as a fellow leader, the others will have one more reason to keep away from getting rid of me."

Eragon nodded and turned to leave. When he reached the door, he placed one hand on it, contemplating what he would do next. He turned, slowly, his head bowed and his eyes intently on the ground.

"Nasuada…I know this is that last thing you want to hear from me, but I am sorry for all the pain I have caused you. I did not know, had I known, I would have spared him."

"And that, dear friend, is exactly why we kept it from you. Murtagh could change his real name, but Galbatorix could have found it again and again. He did, once for loving me, and the second for being caught and tortured. Both times the dark king found it again. So the third time, when his name changed because he found his mother returned to the hellhole and took his injury his father gave him away, it began to change again. And that is when he was able to give himself to you. I blame you not Lord Rider, I await the day where I can join him."

"Arya told me that you may not survive the end of the war."

"Do not worry for me, I have accepted my fate. It is for the best. I have no wish to live in a world without him, and I cannot lead Alagaesia either. That will be left to some other leader."

"Who do you have in mind?"

"Honestly, I do not think Orrin will make a good leader. While he is a good leader, his eccentricity will keep him from uniting the people under one banner. I was thinking Roran, but he is much more content with spending time with this wife, living peacefully. We shall see who can take over after me, we have much time."

Eragon respectfully bowed his head a sign of equality and left the room quickly.

"Arya, have the elves gotten anymore information out of the messengers?"

"Not that I know of." Eragon quickened his pace, practically jogging in the hallways. Arya easily kept up with him, but the wonder of why they were moving so fast entered her mind.

"I need to see Angela on the progress of finding antidotes for those poisons. I do not think that our enemies sword tips will go bare when the battle comes."

He swiftly moved down the stairs, one hand on his hilt keeping the blue sword in place. They moved through the grounds, finding the unusual tent that could only be the witch's.

Not wasting any time, Eragon called out, "Angela! Angela! Are you there?"

The flap rapidly flew open, "Ah, I was wondering when you were going to come. Sit down, have some tea and we can talk."

Eragon and Arya sat down across from the witch in two seats that were specifically brought for them. The Rider greeted Solembum who was laying on the table eyeing them warily.

They heard a call from the other room, "What kind of tea would you like? I have citrus, lemon, blackberry, although I do not have a taste for it, and peppermint."

The Rider glanced at Arya, letting his impatience show through, "Angela, I do not think it is the correct time to be talking of tea. We need to talk about the po-"

"Citrus tea it is. I have to say, you chose my favorite."

Eragon sighed, leaning back into the chair. He would never get his way with Angela, and it was time he learned that. He looked at Arya, a mask of defeat in his face. She, on the other hand, was unsuccessfully hiding her amusement. She leaned over to him and whispered, "It is rather comical that you cannot hold your ground with any woman."

He smiled, she was right, and she was making fun of him. He shrugged his shoulders sheepishly, if the witch could relax for a bit, so could he. Arya slipped her hand into his, lacing her fingers with him, and resting their joined hands on his leg. Her other hand rested on his bicep and she leaned her head on his shoulder. A small appeal to forgive her teasing. He kissed the top of her head, and laid his head on top of hers.

Angela walked out, a small smile on her face at the sight of the two lovers.

"Here is your citrus tea, well sugared." She noiselessly handed over two cups of an orangy, steaming substance. Eragon was never a fan of tea, but his stay in Ellesmera had caused him to develop a liking. And, of course, the fact he learned to like tea, had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that tea was the preferred day drink of the beautiful princess elf next to him. Of course it had nothing to do with it. He gratefully sipped the hot liquid, savoring the feel of it running down his throat.

"Alright Shadeslayers, you wanted to talk about the poisons. I have dismal news and abysmal news. Which would you like first?"

Eragon's heart sank. It was one thing to train the soldiers to fight through wounds, it was another to try and make them avoid all wounds as possible.

"Whichever, Angela, you think will make the most sense." Arya replied quickly, they had to figure a solution out quickly and with the Empire on their heels, they did not have the time for riddle talk.

"Well the dismal news is that the poisons' plants grow specifically in the land of the White Skull."

"Wait, what is the land of the White Skull?"

"Dear Rider, you have just come back from a battle with those of the White Skull."

Eragon's eyes narrowed, "How do you know what they are called? The elves did not even have knowledge of that. We called them the Face-Painters."

"We are wasting precious time, but I suppose if you want to talk of how I know the history of another land, then we can discuss it."

"No, forget it. I do not care how you know, just the fact you do is the most important in this circumstance."

"Then we shall continue. The land of the White Skull is the only place these particular plants can grow, so because of that, the antidote can only be formed by plants that specifically grow there as well. These are not difficult poisons to create, they have only one or two different materials, but the substances can only be cured by similar plants with drastically different effects."

"So we do not have a cure. Can we counter the effects using some of Alagaesia's naturally grown things?"

"And now we reach the abysmal news. It is a theory yes, but I have absolutely no idea what plants are needed. I am versed in healing herbs and plants, I have long forgotten the killing plants."

Eragon took a deep breath, this was not what he wanted to hear.

"Angela, I have a strong suspicion that the tips of the swords of these soldiers will be tainted with these poisons."

The witch closed her eyes, "How can you be sure?"

"I did not think anything of it before, but when a trader of this material drew his weapon, there was a coat of something over it. I have a strong suspicion it is the poison in a different form."

"Very well, there is no use dwelling over it now. Arya Drottningu, would you be kind enough to send me an elf that well versed in plants."

The princess patted Eragon affectionately on the back, "He is already here."

Eragon raised an eyebrow and stared at his mate, "Arya, I do not think I am as well ver-"

Cutting the Rider off from his appeal, Arya firmly stated, "Nonsense, you are the best person there is for the job."

Eragon stared at her, trying to discover why she would ever think he was qualified for this task.

"Iet Shurtugal, listen. All the elves here are warriors, trained in battle, not plants. You are a Rider, and you are versed in all subjects, especially plants and herbs and other forms of life."

"Arya _Drottningu_, you are a princess, and you are well versed in all subjects, far more than I am."

"Eragon, I have other tasks, and this is your task."

He sat grumbling as he watched his mate leave him with small smile. But, he was soon silenced as he focused on the ever-decreasing sight of his mate. Anger, annoyance, frustration, sadness. Useless emotions, useless when he tried to direct them at her. He could not find fault with the elven princess, he did not care to. He did not care if others called him blind or reckless, he could never find a fault, and he could never harbor feelings other than love or admiration.

"You really love her do you not?"

The Rider slowly spun his head back to the witch in front of him. He gave a warm smile, "Yes, I do."

"Shurtugal, Shadeslayer, Argetlam, Eragon, whatever you go by, I will pray to some higher authority that you have a long and loving life with Saphira and Arya at your side. A love like yours does not deserve to die."

He returned her gaze easily, "Do not fear Angela, even without them at my side, my love will not die. It would devastate me, but never kill my love."

Angela nodded, "Well then, why not start with the poison first? The death's pain is made of two different substances. Both are weeds with different properties. On their own, they serve no purpose, but the combined effect is what matters. One detects the amount of adrenaline in the body, amplifies the signal, and undergoes a chemical reaction with the blood to produce an entirely harmless chemical. The second one responds to a chemical and activates the pain sensors by tinkering with the sensory nervous system producing an intense and painful signal."

"And the reason they work together is because the harmless chemical produced by the first is the exact chemical that triggers the second."

"Yes Eragon, that unfortunately is the case. I do not know, however, how the pain worsens every time. I hope you are a bit better at chemistry and alchemy than I am."

Pondering the effects of poison, Eragon finally came up with a plausible solution. "Well, I am taking a stab in the dark, but here is my take on the situation. It is well known that adrenaline is always released in the same amounts, one carefully calculated by our bodies to induce properly a state of heightened awareness without going into a shock. However, just as the heart takes a while to return beating at a normal rate, the adrenaline will take a while to fully leave the body. As the adrenal effect fades, the first substance detects the fading amount and stimulates another release of adrenaline. Producing more of the yellow colored chemical, in addition to the previous chemical."

"And so the second substance, the pain inducing, is not increasing intensity, but has more chemical causing a reaction and more pain sensors to go haywire."

"Exactly, and we need to find a way to have the yellow colored chemical react with a different substance."

"Have any ideas Shadeslayer?"

"Perhaps, but it will take some time to find a counter. Meantime, we need to collect adrenaline."

"How do we do that?"

"You are the witch, can you not induce a state of apprehension, then we can draw my blood and use it as a sample."

"Very well, I shall do my level best, wait here for ten minutes."

Angela conversed with Solembum and he promptly left the tent. It surprised Eragon that he would leave at Angela's order. The werecat was ordered by no one. He shrugged his shoulders and closed his eyes, thinking of different plants able to produce chemical changes.

He needed to find the substance, or at least what class of substance the yellow marker was. He called to Angela, "Do you have any of yellow liquid with you?"

The reply was quick, "Yes Eragon, I do. It is in a jar on the top shelf of the shelf next to the second window across from the door to the left of the desk with the chair next to it."

Eragon stood, eyebrows raised. It would do no good to ask again, so he back traced her words. The desk with a chair next to it, found it. He walked over to it, left of the desk would be the door. Right so far, and now the second window across from it. There were two windows, and one would be next to a shelf. Found the shelf, and found the jar.

The Rider triumphantly grasped the jar, the task of deciphering the witch's directions was one of his most amazing accomplishments. Eragon pulled open the jar of yellow material to examine it. There was a little, but certainly not enough to conduct the experiments he needed to, just enough to find the class it belonged to.

He carefully poured the contents into six glass dishes.

"Angela, could you come out for a second? I need your help with this."

She hurriedly entered the room with a look of surprise, "What did you need help with? You found the jar of yellow gunk."

A look of annoyance he asked, "Did you expect me not to?"

"Frankly, yes, now what did you need me for?"

"I need pure lithium, copper, zinc, magnesium metal, silicon, potassium metal, pure chlorine and pure iodine."

The chemicals were easy enough to find, but the task he was about to embark on was not. Depending on how each of the chemicals reacted with the yellow 'gunk' as Angela put it, Eragon would be able to decipher what kind of class or group the yellow stuff could be grouped in.

The pure lithium did nothing, eliminating the first group. The copper and zinc reacted, meaning that whatever was in it, reacted well with metal and produced a gas, which ruled out any element considered a metal. The chlorine and iodine did nothing reactive wise. When burned the magnesium did not react with the yellow stuff, ruling out the oxygen group. The only ones left were the Halogens, Noble Gases, and those with Boron and Nitrogen. It could not be a noble gas, those will always be unreactive. It could not be boron as they were usually discolored or transparent. Silicon reacted, meaning it could be a number of elements similar to those with properties of both solid and liquid.

The Halogens were a possibility, but the fact the yellow substance was not dissolving in water ruled out that possibility, leaving Nitrogen and Boron. Boron was not the most logical of answer, the elements were too varied, so Nitrogen it was. Eragon was not sure, but believed that the plants that countered the effects of nitrogen could counter the effects of the poison, but he would need more tests, and more adrenaline. As if on cue, Arya walked through the door, followed quickly by Solembum.

She had a smile on her face, and it was a mischievous one. She had that look about her when she was hellbent on making him be in the most uncomfortable of positions.

"Ah Drottningu, I see you have heard of our plight. We need the adrenaline."

Eragon stared at Angela quizzically, _why did she need Arya to get the adrenaline?_

He looked back at the elf, unsure of what was about to transpire. The Rider did not have to think for too long. In the next second, Arya grasped his collar and pulled him towards her, ferociously claiming his mouth for hers. Her hand found its way underneath his tunic and roved over his defined abdominal muscles. Slipping her tongue through his defenses, she engaged him in a duel far more exciting than one with blades. Eragon felt her hand sink in and grasp his hair with a force that could only be described as brutal.

He was well aware that Angela was right behind them, but he did not seem be in his right mind. Instantly responding to her demands, he snaked his arms around her back and gripped her silky raven strands, forcing her closer.

And then just as quickly as she entered, she broke away, leaving him panting.

"And that is all the adrenaline I need."

Eragon looked, his eyes dazed, a burning coming from within. He barely realized that Angela took his hand, making a light incision and draining half a pint of blood from his body. He paid no attention to his hand, finally realized why Angela had called Arya to him. She set him on fire, anyone with two eyes could see that. He turned back to his mate, a small smile on his face in thanks for agreeing to help them, even though she did not like such fierce displays of their relationship out in the open. Arya was concentrating on his hand however, itching to close up the wound. She had hoped there would have been another way to get the adrenaline from him, but she should have known that was the way the witch would have chosen to do it.

And Eragon harbored no hard feelings even though she embarrassed him so publicly, and still went through a plan that ended with his blood shed. She looked to the floor, hating herself for what she put him through. Concern etching his features, Eragon tightened his arm around her back, drawing attention to him.

_Believe me, it was no embarrassment, and my being cut was not your fault. You believed there was another method, and it does not hurt too much. She is almost done. _

"I do not know how you put up with me." Arya stated the truth, no one as much as her was a cause of concern and pain.

He kissed the top of her head, assuring her he had no such concerns. A gently caress in her mind, he replied, _There is nothing to put up with. You are my greatest cause for concern, yes, only because I do not love another more than you. And you cause me no pain that I have not deserved. Think no more on this little cut, it is no fault of yours. It will heal, and it hardly pains much. _

The elf was about to respond when Angela interrupted, ignoring their exchange, "There all done, thank you for your donation Shadeslayer."

The princess's eyes turned angry at the witch, _How dare she think nothing of his pain? And no offer of apology?"_

Before Arya could release her carefully placated elven wrath on the unsuspecting woman, Eragon bent his head down and slowly captured her lips. She immediately turned her attention to him, her anger replaced by her love for him. He drew back when she was finally calm. Arya caught his hand and muttered the words to heal his skin. Still holding his hand in hers, she brought it to her face, treasuring the certainty that he was there.

Angela smartly left the room, leaving the two lovers without fear of interruption.

"Forgive me, I did not know that was the end result. I was only told that Angela needed adrenaline flowing and this was the quickest way she knew how. I thought…I do not know what I was thinking, but I should have known."

Furrowing his brows, Eragon held her cheek in one hand, her lithe body safe in another.

"There is absolutely nothing to forgive. Had Angela not cut me, I would have. Do not think it was unnecessary."

When she showed no signs of stopping her self-loathing, Eragon drew her in closer. His right arm was holding her body close to his, an unwavering band, and his left hand held the back of her head to his chest, a silent plea to see he did not care.

He bent and whispered, "Arya, iet evarínya nuanen, my only star, if I needed to take a blade across my skin to kiss you, then I would gladly do it until there was not a drop of blood left in me."

Arya had no want to hear anymore, she silenced his haunting, yet beautiful words with her mouth once more.

"Eragon, I never wanted to see you hurt, and now, I was the catalyst for your pain. Skölir fra súndavar, skölir abr thringa (shield from shadows, shield of rain), you are indeed. Protecting me with your constant shower of love from the darkest shadows of my mind. How can I ever prove my love for you?"

"I need no proof, I feel it everyday. You never need to prove anything to me."

"Are you really not angry with me? I followed along in a plan that ended with you being cut."

"It had to be done, and believe me, you made it far more enjoyable for me."

A hint of a smile appeared on the elf's face. She glanced at the table with the various experiments Eragon conducted. Following her gaze, he frowned once again.

"I have a strong notion that in death's pain, one of the compounds in similar to nitrogen here, meaning they should react similarly. And if they do, then we can change the compound before it sets off the second plant."

"How can you test it?"

Eragon looked away, scared of how to answer her. If they used animals, he would be killing parts of nature, something horrid to him. However, if they used a human being, it would be even worse if the effects were disastrous. Using a man of the Varden, even if it was a volunteer, would lose the support of many. Leaving the only option a prisoner of the Varden, and that would make them as good as the Empire.

Arya saw the conflict in his mind. They needed answers, but the price to pay would be a dear one. With an abundance of prisoners, finding a man who deserved little more than die was not very difficult.

"We have no choice Arya. I will talk to Nasuada once we are ready with a possible cure. And then we will find the man who has, on countless occasions, made immoral decisions and test the substance. No matter how much I hate it, we have no choice."

She rubbed a hand, lovingly up and down his back, in an attempt to soothe his tortured soul. The war had too many casualties. If the physical scars were not enough, it even threatened to scar psychologically…spiritually.

"We have no choice Eragon, we must. Do not fear others looking at you as if you are a man to fear. If those who do not understand you even attempt to judge you, they will have me to deal with personally."

Eragon smiled, "It is a wonder, Arya, it is a wonder that you hold the most powerful man in Alagaesia, according to you, in the palm of your hand. I doubt anyone could make me feel protected as you do."

His words pleased her beyond practical knowledge. She wanted to protect him, wanted to keep him safe from all that threatens to harm him. Sometimes, it took all her willpower not to take his hand and run away, knowing full well he would follow without questioning. Eragon ran his hand down Arya's back one last time before breaking away.

"Angela! I need some more chemicals, and place the drug in the blood quickly."

The witch walked back in, "Did I hear a please Shadeslayer?"

Eragon raised an eyebrow, this was not the time to pick battles, "Very well, please get me what I asked for."

She bustled around the room and finally came up with the necessary chemicals. Thinking out loud, Eragon mused, "If we can this to react, and then stop the reaction half way, then we know the substance changes it."

He dropped aqueous solutions in the yellow stained blood, watching the indicators change under his careful eye. Most of them were partially effective, a low reaction rate, meaning the forward reaction was not favored. But one chemical, thankfully, changed the yellow stained blood completely back to red. They had to test the compounds on a human however, or else the effectives of placing that chemical in the body might cause even more catastrophic effects.

Arya watched him intently, tracking his thoughts and his quick hands. Eragon was extremely intelligent. The kind of chemistry required to make these tests and experiments occur was not one easy to grasp. They involved a series of reactions, each more complicated than the previous. It had taken her years to grasp the art of chemical mixing and deciphering what the reactions meant, and here he was, in less than two years, already a master at it among other things.

"Arya." She was brought out of her thoughts. He was holding a few vials, namely the poison and his made up antidote. "We need to see Nasuada immediately, the battle will commence in two days, and if this does not work…"

She nodded and raised the tent flap for him to exit. Giving an expressionless look to Angela, she asked, "Are you coming?"

The witch gave a wry smile, "My talents I hate to use for harm, no matter who it is. I will not watch, that way, I will only feel like my support helped, and nothing more."

Arya's jaw clicked, it was not everyday she nearly lost her temper. And when she found herself tried, there was a good reason for it. Angela had no right to even think there was a harm to it.

_Of course there is harm to it. _Eragon's voice of reason resounded through her mind and she looked at the sender.

"But it is something we must do. I might have nightmares, but you take those away." He smiled at her, the one that stopped her heart or sent it wild, the one he only gave her. "What were you doing when I was here with Angela?"

"Sizing up the men for their armor and weapons."

Eragon raised his eyebrows, "I had absolutely no idea we had more soldiers that needed to be sized."

"Believe me, they are no soldiers. Some have not even seen a sword before, and others can barely pick one up. There are a few that can throw a strong arm, but not many."

Eragon looked away, horrible thoughts of unwilling soldiers being sent to their death in this war. "How many soldiers do we have?"

"Before the last companies of the dwarves, elves, and Urgals came, we were close to thirty-six thousand, total between Feinster and Gilead. However, we now have close to fifty thousand with the new warriors and the ones that are being equipped now."

"Versus the Empire's seventy thousand warriors with spellcasters to protect them."

"Do not look so bleak, if we defend Feinster, we lay a siege to Belatona, it is the most defining way we can capture the city. And then we wait out the winter, by that time, the elves in Gilead should have capture Dras-Leona. We isolate the capital, then move in from both sides by early March."

Eragon nodded, an expressionless face his elven princess hated on him, "Arya, have you finished distributing the armor?"

"No, we have about two fifths of the men left."

"Very well, I shall go to Nasuada and then the dungeons, and I shall see you later tonight."

The elf princess nodded, placing a swift kiss on the Rider's lips before briskly walking away to finish her duty. She had no desire to leave Eragon when he was about to embark on the task he was, but she knew he would rather do this alone than with a crowd. Even if it was her.

Eragon stood, watching her as she left. Part of him wanted to call out to her, begging her to come with him, and the other part wanted Arya as far away as him as possible, lest he be unable to become the cold man he needed to become to willingly poison a man.

He sighed and abruptly turned towards the dungeons.

_Saphira? _

_What is it little one?_

_I have made a potential antidote for the poison Death's pain. However, I need to test it on a prisoner beforehand. Can you meet me down in the dungeons? I need you by my side…in case something unexpected occurs. _

_Very well, have you spoken to Nasuada yet? _

_No, I am going there right now. _

…_Are you sure there is no other way to test it? _

_I have no ideas, Saphira. Do you have any? _

_No, I suppose not. _

…_I do not want to do this Saphira, I wish there was another way. _Eragon looked down, ashamed that at the task he was about to embark on.

_Then pray to Fate that your antidote will work. _

Saphira stayed in his mind, moving into the deeper of his mind, his subconscious. There were no words to describe how grateful he was to have Saphira with him. The presence of another soul. It was different, his relationship with Arya and his relationship with Saphira. Arya was his love, his everything, heart, mind, body, soul. His salvation. Saphira, she was an extension of him. Another of his mind, yet he was also an extension of her as well. They were both, apart, nonexistent, but they find purpose with each other. They were linked past the bonds of any race. Eragon was not Eragon without Saphira, and the same could be said of Saphira as well. They, together, made up one entity.

Eragon walked towards Nasuada's room. Her guards moved aside, accustomed to his presence. He knocked lightly and waited to be admitted in.

Her petite, dark figure immediately opened the door for him. If it was possible anymore, she had grown even more thin, much more weak. The stress of leading the Varden was not easy. As it grew, the troubles grew as well. And not to mention the seventy thousand magically protected soldiers heading their way in a matter of two days.

"Eragon, what brings you here today? Please come in."

The Rider gracefully entered, his face carefully guarded of any distress.

"Nasuada, I have a strong notion that the soldiers will poison their tips with Death's pain. Angela and I have come up with a potential antidote, however, we need to test the concoction before we take any chances."

Her eyebrows furrowed, "And how do you plan to do this exactly?"

Putting as little emotion into his voice as possible, Eragon replied in the diplomatic way of the elves, "I need some prisoners of the Varden to test the poison and the antidote on."

"And if it fails…"

Eragon remained silent, he knew what he was asking. He knew this act of his would be no better than the immoral of the Empire.

Nasuada carefully watched his face for some emotion. When there was none, she sighed. He was getting better at being an elf, completely emotionless at times, or at least projected himself to be.

"If you see no other way, then I shall come with you and show you the beastliest of prisoners we have."

The Varden leader led the way from the room and started towards the bottom of the castle. Saphira was already waiting by the nearest ground entrance for Eragon.

_Little one, I cannot fit there. I shall stay in your mind, come back up as soon as you can. _

Eragon sent his agreement in response.

"Eragon, we are here."

The Rider observed a dark cell, far darker than the ones in Farthen Dur. It was moist, damp, little critters scattered here and there, a true hell.

"I would be careful with who you chose. There are many prisoners here, close to fifteen. Some are simply soldiers, others caught assassins, and others still murderers. I know I have no control over you, but I ask you, as a friend, chose the one with the least moral values. Whether he be a soldier or an assassin."

"I had no other idea Nasuada. I shall be done shortly and I will send you a report of my findings, success or failure."

Nasuada nodded and turned to leave. But before she left, she turned around, "Be careful Eragon. Many atrocities have been committed in the name of science. This will not become a routine as long as I am leader."

"Nasuada, I do not gain any pleasure from this deed. The success of the Varden is far more important than the life of one immoral man of our enemy's. I still do not wish this, but we cannot send our soldiers against poisoned swords knowingly, and not have some kind of antidote or cure for them."

The Varden leader nodded and turned away, briskly leaving him without a second glance back. Eragon scanned the minds of the prisoners. Most were frightened, some were beaten and broken for information. He spent his time, carefully looking in their memories, choosing the ones that determined the character of the men. After minutes of thorough searching, he found his prisoner.

At a young age, this middle aged man showed signs of animal abuse. He killed little, harmless creatures, including a small puppy. When he showed signs of prowess on a battlefield, he quickly rose in the ranks of officers. He was a leader of his men, but not above waiting on the sidelines. He loved a battle, and he reveled in bloodshed by his sword. He was married in his late twenties, to the daughter of another man of his same rank. However, three years into the marriage, he showed abusive tendencies, hitting and swearing at his spouse. By that time, he had a two year old daughter who was also a target of his abuse since then.

Eragon had no time to be angry, no time to carry out the punishment he believed this man deserved. He unlocked the cell and walked in. His eyes, a deep shining, blue piercing the man's eyes. He looked up, a face of pure hatred etched on his features. Immobilizing his with one word, Eragon forced the poison into his body and waited for the effects to show.

It took barely thirty seconds for the man to start howling in pain. His screeches alerted the guards, who ran in shortly after. Eragon could hear the other prisoners squirm in their cells, theorizing what new horrors the rebels would create for them. But he had no time to appease the unwanted crowds. He forced the potential antidote down the man's throat and watched for any signs of change. The wailing did not decrease immediately. But soon, the man reduced his screaming to a mere panting, attempting to regain his composure. Eragon entered his mind and checked the condition of his body, the poison had taken affect and the antidote had worked. So far, there were no adverse effects from the antidote. A success, and a hell to go through to get it.

The Rider left the room, he had no need to apologize to the man. He was the worst of the worst of men, and no man worth a piece of silver would ever need to owe this man anything, in his mind, this prisoner got his punishment's worth. Eragon, on the other hand, needed to apologize to every person he learned better from, for showing such a lack of morality.

He walked into the light and rested a weary head on Saphira's shoulder. Her head snaked around, clutching her dear little one to her.

_Are you alright little one? _

_Yes, but I fear what would have happened if the antidote had not worked. _

_There is nothing to fear now. _

_Yet I knew there was a risk, and I put a man's life in danger. What am I becoming Saphira? _

_You are a Rider, bound by your duties to the land and its people. _

_Saphira, I risked my life, the future of the Alagaesia, and even your despair to save one man's life. And here I am, barely months from that deed, a merciless killer in the heart of the Empire, and a torturer in the name of science. _

…_Perhaps you should speak to Glaedr-elda at a later time. As of now, Arya has just contacted me. __Luehar the Wise, and Ansris the Keeper wish to speak with you of the Battle of the Sea._

_Must we? We have another battle to prepare for._

_And you are becoming impatient again. Do not forget they were a major reason as to why we were able to win that battle. Else, we would have never known of those mammoth beasts. You owe them a favor, and it is better to have these elves on your side. _

_Alright, let us go to Angela and then to the requests of these elves. _

_Very well, shall we fly? _

_Is there ever a different option Bjartskular? _

_Eragon, unless you would like me to call you Shurtugal, do not call me Bjartskular. That name is for everyone else, not for family. _

_As you wish Saphira. Although I find it interesting that I have no name for you, yet you have little one for me. _

_Are you thinking of potential names? _

_I suppose I could call you Majestic One. _

_Your prowess at words amazes me. _

_What? I happen to like Saphira, so I could call you My Sapphire. _

_That is not so bad, but if anyone calls me Sapphire, then get rid of the name. _

_As you wish, my Sapphire. _

_What are we seeing Angela for? _

_To ask her to make enough of the antidote to supply the entire Varden force for one dose. _

_Will she have time?_

_She will have to make time. She will have her helpers. _

Eragon entered the witch's tent from Saphira's saddle. She was sitting at her table, obviously waiting for his return.

"Were you successful Shadeslayer?"

"Yes, as a matter of a fact, I was. And I must ask you a favor."

Angela let out a rare smile and answered for him, "To your asking, then yes. I will make the antidote for the Varden forces by the time of the battle."

"Thank you Angela. May the stars watch over you."

The Rider turned away and headed towards the door.

"You have changed Eragon."

He spun around, slowly, as if savoring each feel of wind across his face.

When he made no move to respond, Angela continued, "You were a boy, curious, hopeful, idealist. Now, now I can finally say that you have become a man. Far too mellow, realistic, able to make decisions for the best even when hurting one. It is a characteristic only learned by experience, but I have to say, you have acquired it far earlier than you should have. A mere observation, not an opinion."

"Thank you for your interpretation Angela. I was forced to change, forced to become one beyond my years."

The witch nodded, "Take care of yourself Shadeslayer. After a while, no one else besides those closest to you will."

"Is that a prediction?" The Rider let out a laugh.

"No, not a prediction. A life lesson, one I have learned far to late in my life. Now go, you have far more important things to do."

With a nod of his head, Eragon turned away. This time, he did not look back. He mounted Saphira once again and they took off to the castle towers. Not caring for the dragonhold, Saphira flew just above the balcony of her Rider's room. Eragon jumped off, landing lithely outside an open door. The smell of the ocean was quickly overrun by the fragrance of crushed pinecones the wind carried towards his honed senses. Entering the room, he located Arya. She was gazing at him, obviously aware he had entered through the window, like a thief in the night. She lounged across a chair, her tired body finally relaxing after a tense day. Sipping a cup of her favorite tea, she smiled at him.

Arya watched as her mate slowly padded his way over to her. What caught her eyes the most were his own eyes. She remembered when his eyes were brown. They were just as kind then, but they held none of the magnificence they held now. At first, his eyes had changed to a slight blue every time he used magic. And as he grew stronger, his eyes had changed into a much more permanent blue. After his true power was unlocked, his Grey Folk powers, the Rider's eyes changed into a cerulean blue, the blue of a perfect ocean. They held a swirling mist in them, as if the power, his power, his essence could be taken from his very eyes. But only she knew his eyes were only the tips of his true essence. They were but the fire to start a wildfire.

He placed his hands on either arm of the chair, facing Arya while standing up. Leaning down with utmost care, he took possession of her lips, needing her to see it was far too long since he had seen her.

"How did this day treat you, iet Drottningu?"

"Do you wish, iet liduen Shurtugal, to have a conversation of the mundane occurrences of my day, when I know of your distress?"

Eragon smiled, she read him like a book. A child's book, with no double meanings of any interpretations. He was open to her, his emotions easy for her to read. Even his expressionless face, one he practiced over the months, was easily deciphered by her emerald gaze.

"Not now, we have to speak with Luehar the Wise, and Ansris the Keeper before we talk of my findings. But for now, we were successful and the antidote worked."

She knew whether the antidote worked or not was not a victory. He had lost the battle in both cases, or so he thought. But she returned to his lips, briefly before sliding out underneath him, and moving towards the scrying mirror. Saying the few words, the faces of the elder elves popped into view.

"Drottningu, Shadeslayer."

"Luehar –elda, Ansris –elda, how are you today?"

"We are quite fine, and we have some questions for you."

"Very well, what are they?"

"Were you able to take any of the energy from the Face-Painters?"

"No, not even from the beasts. There were no magicians either."

"Ah, that is wonderful news, how else did the battle fare?"

"Quite well, we had minimal casualties, close to six thousand remain from the nine thousand, and they are making their way back towards Feinster as we speak. They will be here early mornining."

"We have a theory on why you could not take the energy from the Face-Painters."

The conversation was rather boring him, but Saphira was right. He needed more friends than enemies, and these elves, for all intensive purposes were quite respected.

"I am intrigued, what have you concluded?"

"Just as Alagaesia has magic as an ingrained part of it, all forms of life in Alagaesia have the same aspect. Every thing in this land was altered, given a true name by the Grey Folk, yet no matter how we look at it, these foreigners have never had a true name. They simple do not have one, and therefore cannot be controlled like that. The lack of the a true name means the lack of alteration caused by magic done by the Grey Folk. Therefore, they have no magic, and their life force is breakable as it is not tied to anything. In their land there is no magic, and therefore, magic cannot be in their bodies or souls."

"I find absolutely nothing wrong with that theory. It is remarkably the best explanation for something as unique as this situation."

"Yes, but that is not the main reason as to why we contacted you."

Eragon ears perked up, surely there were not any more questions.

Ansris spoke next, "We have studied battle techniques and you need to make these aware in the next meeting. We were unable to contact Islanzadi Drottning, and therefore we contacted Arya Drottningu. However, since you both are mates, we decided it was simpler to contact the both of you together."

Luehar took up the conversation, "Here is what we know. The magician is usually in the center of each regiment of soldiers. It serves two purposes. One, the magician himself is protected, and two the distance to protect is much smaller. Unfortunately, arrows will not have a strong hit rate as there will be various wards. We suggest the elves cloak themselves with an invisibility spell, and dispose of these magicians first. Then, the usual warfare tactics can begin. Next, Galbatorix never sends an army of this size without two main leaders. They often work independently, therefore the movements are uncoordinated. However, since two Shades have been spotted, this is not the case. Two Shades can never take on similar tasks and complete them successfully. It simply does not work. Therefore, one Shade is most like taking a group of elite magicians to infiltrate the castle walls and wreck havoc on the men and women there. The other is in charge of the entire army with numerous smaller leaders."

"That is all we can tell you. May the stars watch over you Arya Drottningu, Eragon Shurtugal, and may the wind roar with the wings of Saphira Bjartskular. Let the only news hail in Ellesmera be that of your trouncing victory over the Empire's attempt to end this honorable rebellion."

Eragon nodded, "Thank you, Ansris-elda, Luehar-elda. May the stars watch over you."

The mirror went blank once more, showing the Rider only his face staring back at him. He studied his surroundings from the mirror. Arya was standing next to him, her gaze turned his way, an expression of inexpressible love written so clearly in her features. The wind blew through the balcony, promising of adventures that lay beyond even its reach. The room was a simple one, a bed, a closet, a bathroom. Far better than one he had ever had, save for his tree house in Ellesmera. It was well furnished, but that was Arya's touch. Even in his tent, he simply had a makeshift sack that carried all his belongings and a small trunk for his miscellaneous objects: books, other weapons, a small flute a boy had given him, some carvings he made when he was bored, a few fairths, namely one of his mother and another of Arya. When Arya moved in, a whole brigade of furnishings came with her. Small dining table, a dresser, bedside table, desk, chairs scattered here and there, a lounging chair out on the balcony. How she packed and unpacked her belongings were a mystery to him.

"I shrink them."

"What?"

"I shrink the furniture, carry smaller, more manageable versions of them and enlarge them when I require them."

"Ingenious I must say."

Arya moved toward the balcony, the sun was still up in the afternoon. But soon it would leave the sky and the land would fall into darkness once again. She lay on the chair, leaning back as the wind caressed her long dark tresses. She vaguely felt Eragon move behind her, he walked far too quietly to be heard anymore. He lay beside her, his head resting over her beating heart and his strong arm encircling her waist. His breath was warm on her chest, a small solace with the wind cooling her skin. Her hands immediately went to his body, clutching him closer. Her left hand rested on his back, and her right waved through his hair, gently scraping her nails through. She loved his hair, thick, wavy, much stronger than any hair she had seen before. Most elves tended to grow longer hair, but Arya preferred short locks far more. It seemed, more reasonable and short locks fit him far more than any other elf. Her hand moved to his stubbly jawline. His skin was already rougher under her hand, no doubt the shadow of most human men making its infamous appearance. She stroked her hand lovingly over his face. How she loved watching him rest, watching him peacefully rest his weary body.

"Iet evarínya nuanen, I have much to tell you."

She said nothing, merely letting him speak without any interruptions. Her hand went back to his hair, gripping and gently pulling at the roots, a simple massage for his senses.

"The man I chose abused his wife and child. He was in pain, far more than imaginable, and the antidote worked. Angela is making more of it."

There was no reason for his words, he was repeating what she already knew. But he did not know how to word his concerns. It was a slew of facts left open to her interpretation of his actions. He needed no interpretation, she knew what he had to do and why he had to do it. There was no judgment on her part, simply acceptance. She comforted him, waves of love flowing through her, and through her, through him.

"Ssh, Skölir Fra Súndavar (Shield from Shadows), as you have done for me in the past, let me ease your fears. Allow me to shield you from the shadows of the world."

He tightened his grip around her, unbreakable. Inhaling her fresh scent, he buried his face in the depths of her long, raven black hair. Night was falling quickly, and then there would be the first of the two days before the war. The battle weary soldiers from the Battle of the Sea marched towards Feinster. Arya waved a blanket over their resting figures. She had no need to move, her position was satisfactory. She vaguely felt Eragon throw a leg over hers, before drifting off to sleep.

A loud knocking woke the sleeping princess from her slumber. She motioned to get up, but found herself pleasantly restricted by Eragon's sleeping form. Instead, she opted to greet the person from inside.

"Who is it?" She raised her voice, not in an unkind manner.

"Jared, milady. I bring a message from the Lady Nasuada."

"What is it?"

"The war council meeting has been changed to approximately six thirty tomorrow morning, or following the arrival of the soldiers from the Battle of the Sea if it is any later than that."

"Thank you Jared, you have delivered your message well."

Arya heard the makings of a voice thanking her, but the boy had already bowed and left.

"Who was that Arya?" His voice severely muffled from his sleeping position, Eragon raised his head slightly, in an attempt to better form his words.

The princess pushed her mate's head back down on her chest before replying, "Just a message from Nasuada. The war council will meet tomorrow at six thirty in the morning, or whenever the soldiers arrive if that is later than six thirty."

He grunted his understanding before returning to his light sleep. Eragon gave a small yawn and lifted his head up. He briefly kissed Arya and returned his head to its original position before slightly nuzzling her chin. Her hands held his tired head to her once again, almost out of instinct.

"I love you Arya."

She smiled, her eyes closed. It would take several lifetimes to tire of hearing those words, even then, it would be hard pressed.

"As I love you Eragon." She felt his smile against her skin, the feel of his love radiating through her mind. Arya knew she could lay like this, content in each other's presence for an eternity.

They drifted off to sleep soon after, uninterrupted for the remainder of the cool night.

Eragon awoke early the next morning. It was still slightly dark outside. He raised his head and looked at his sleeping princess. She had a peaceful look about her. One he could not possibly want to remove. Gracefully lifting himself off, he made his way down to the food storage room and brought some bread and strawberry jam back. Entering the room, he heated up a small oven with some blue fire and sliced the pieces of bread into medium sized parts. He placed them over the fire, carefully toasting them, and set them on the table once again. Spreading the jam over the bread, he brought five pieces back to Arya sleeping form, and sat down next to her. The smell of toasted bread would eventually wake her, he decided.

He guessed correctly, it was barely two minutes before she stretched her arms, announcing her arousal. She opened her eyes, a smile gracing her features. Before they had become friends, she rarely smiled when they were alone. Now, she was hard pressed to not smile when they were together. She took a piece of bread, grateful he had already made breakfast.

She looked outside, twenty minutes till the war council. Moving to the bathroom, she heated water bathed while Eragon sat by the balcony. He was reading again, with the light of the candle. _Dominance of Fate_, a book she learned that Jeod had gifted him. She often saw him reading the book in the courtyard, oblivious to any casual onlookers. As the book was banned, she never had the opportunity when she had the time to read it. In fact, she doubted the library in Ellesmera even contained a copy of it. She liked history, but she was far more interested in the studies of life and magic. She loved animals, especially birds. Blagden was an exception, he was rather annoying, but most other, calmer birds captured her attention more than anything else. Arya sat in the bath, listening to the chirping of the birds outside. The Rider probably had not noticed, but everywhere he went, there seemed to be an abundance of wildlife following him. Little furry creatures to giant bears. She never told him, but she had encountered some beasts she never thought she would see when she ran through the Empire after him. Fanghurs, a phoenix, various wolves, and many, many birds her people believed to be extinct after the rise of evil through the lands. But they had come out, for him, to set their sights on the new Rider. She had to carefully plan her resting spots, but when she traveled with Eragon, the animals encircled them, staying far enough to be considered non-threatening, and close enough to protect them.

She moved the soap suds over her body, savoring the feel of hot water surrounding her. Gaining a sense of time, she stood up, opening the water tap once more and allowing it to clean her body of any lingering soap before opening the drain and stepping out. She pulled a towel down and began to dry herself. She reached for her clothes…_clothes. _She forgot her clothes. Another embarrassing moment. These were the precise reasons her mother became annoyed with her. Then again, her mother was not here at the moment, and she had no doubt Eragon would mind the least if she paraded around in a towel looking for her clothes.

Carefully wrapping the towel around her body, she stepped outside the bathroom. The edge of the towel went barely below her bottom, and well above her knees. She thanked whoever invented locked doors. She leaned over, finding the clothes she wanted. A red tunic that went far past her waist, and her usual tight fitting pants. She glanced at Eragon, only to see him staring at her, a burning desire evident in his eyes. His gaze roved over her figure, but he made no move towards her. She smiled and changed into her clothes.

He silently walked behind her, encircling her waist. It seemed a miracle to him, that she was comfortable enough around him. That fact gave him more peace than even the knowledge of how to defeat the king. Inhaling her fresh scent, he pressed his lips against her neck, "We have close to five minutes. Your mother has just arrived."

Turning her head towards him, she leaned back, pressing his hands closer to her.

"Then let us be off. For once, I am actually looking forward to seeing my mother."

She felt him smile against her neck, before letting go and taking her hand in his. They walked out, locking the door as they left.

_Saphira? Are you awake yet? _

_Of course little ones, I shall meet you in the courtyard shortly. Do not take too long. _

Eragon and Arya descended the stairs, meeting no one on the way up and walked into the courtyard at the first opportune moment. Nasuada was walking towards them, at her side were a few human and dwarf generals. Commander Alinor was walking in, General Huvin beside him and General Halton a little ways back talking with Vanir, of what, Eragon could not be sure of. Queen Islanzadi and Lord Däthedr. Eragon bowed slightly to the Queen, initiating the elven greeting, only to be stopped.

"Eragon, we are family, do we really need these formalities?" A hint of care leaked into her voice as she embraced Arya in a tight hold. Letting go quickly, she placed a kiss on the Rider's cheek and gave him a small hug. Returning the embrace, Eragon turned to Lord Däthedr and gave him a slight head nod before clasping Vanir by his arm in a greeting of a warrior. The male elf let out a chuckle before giving the Rider a light, brotherly hug. It was uncommon for elves to show such outward displays of emotions, but Eragon seemed to bring about such changes wherever there were elves. The twelve magicians followed after, and more leaders strode in the courtyard. Once Nasuada was content with all the leaders' presence, she began to speak.

"As we all know, we have information that states the Empire moves towards Feinster with an army seventy thousand strong. Reports have it that they are magicians with this army, along with two Shades. Our meeting today is to confirm battle plans and discuss a way to approach the battle. Before we begin, do we have anything other information that could potentially be useful?"

Eragon stepped up, "I have spoken to those who have studied Galbatorix's strategic moves for the past century. They have shared with me as their leader was unavailable, their theories. The magicians will be in the center of each section of an army. That way, they are protected, and they have much smaller ground to protect. The two Shades will never be assigned similar tasks as the competition between the two grows so destructive, it threatens to destroy the entire army. Therefore, one Shade is most likely going to lead the army, while the other takes on a different task, perhaps infiltrating the castle walls and leading a small insurgent through Feinster."

Nasuada nodded, "Very well, thank you Shadeslayer. Now we will begin potential battle formation and movements."

The meeting dragged on and on. Everyone spoke, thinking of ideas or finding faults in others. The idea Ansris the Keeper and Leuhar the Wise gave him ended up to be the integral part of the plan. A select number of elves, fifty or so, would mask their presence and move through the ranks of the soldiers during the battle and kill the magician. Once that task was complete, the elves were ordered to return to the main Varden formation and fight alongside the soldiers. Leaving fifty elves to the mercy of seventy thousand soldiers of the Empire, with or without the protection of Empire would have been suicidal. The elves had a better chance of survival fighting in groups together. After the elves had completed their tasks, the archers would begin their assault and as the soldiers neared closer, the ground fighting would begin. The Shade on the field would be attacked from multiple angles. Saphira would attack the large groups until the mix was too much for her fire, then she would resort to fighting on the ground or clawing her way through. They would be separated for a time. Eragon would track the second Shade and ensure its demise. Arya, Blodhgarm and a few other elves would accompany him when the time came. Eragon could gauge his new power, he would most likely not require any assistance, but Saphira would not let him go alone without her nearby, and neither would Arya for that matter.

_You are powerful, but not invincible. _Arya's hand gripped his harder. She feared nothing more than losing him, and she be damned if she ever unnecessarily left him in danger alone again. After the Shade was killed, the team would move back towards the main battle. They were thirty thousand strong, and the catapults would be used again. Since they were outnumbered so heavily, it would have been unwise to send in company by company because all would be surrounded and then demolished. There would be no tricks this time, no surprises. Just a pure, unadulterated battle between the Varden and the Empire.

After a few grueling hours of debate and discussion, the war council had ended. Those who arrived from the sea opted to rest that day, leaving the others in command temporarily. Solembum had informed Eragon that Angela was distributing the antidote to the soldiers, exactly how Eragon did not care to know. The fact it was being done was what mattered this far into the war.

Nasuada's voice rang out once more, "As much as I would love to congratulate all of the warriors from the Battle of the Sea properly, we cannot afford the time as of right now. I would like to first win the upcoming battle, then move to Belatona, and then toward Dras Leona where we will meet with the elves from Gilead before the winter. After that, the celebrations may begin. However, right now, I can only express my gratitude to all those who have made such a trouncing victory over the Empire possible. Eragon Shadeslayer, I do not request that you make a speech of some sort, but I would like you to address the Varden in a few minutes, words of encouragement for the upcoming battle. You are most suited for this role, if you will."

"Very well, I shall address them shortly."

_Little one, do you know what you will say? _

_No, and I hate speaking in front of crowds. _

_Would you like my help in choosing your words?_

_Nay, I will think of something. _

The leaders moved to the tall tower where the entire Varden was in viewing distance. A large crowd had already gathered, obviously they had been previously informed of the arrangement. Nasuada spoke, the words ran over Eragon's head. There was nothing of importance in them. After a few minutes, she called his name and the crowd erupted in cheers. He sighed, bracing himself, a nervous flock of butterflies rising in his stomach. Arya squeezed his hand in assurance. He stepped up on the balcony, his voice magnified and began.

"People of the Varden! People of Alagaesia…I have come to you with great news. The Battle of the Sea has been announced a Varden victory! Even our foreign enemies stood no chance against the might of the Varden. We have returned triumphant, experienced warriors. We lost but three thousand men against an army of fifty thousand. But alas, our victory is short lived. On our tails, begging us to disband is an army of the Empire's. But we will not fall, there is no chance of our failure. Nine thousand soldiers of the Varden trounced fifty thousand foreigners, and now thirty thousand warriors of the Varden will trounce seventy thousand of the king's. People of the Varden! Warriors of Alagaesia! Will you fight?!"

A trouncing war yell erupted from the crowd. Banging of shields, clanging of metal, loud, fearful noises.

"THEN LET US FIGHT!" Eragon yelled his last sentence to the crowd, riled them up. He knew he had riled them up, knew his words motivated the people. He bowed and stepped back, immediately returning to Saphira's and Arya's side. Saphira touched his brow, _You did very well Little One, they will not forget this day soon._

"Saphira is right Eragon, you have a particular talent for speeches." The elf princess grasped his hand, lacing her fingers with his for the entire Varden to see. It was old news now, their relationship. But apparently, they still could not escape the stares that followed. It was not so bad after a while since they barely were in public together. Most of the time they were in the forests, or their room. They were only out in the open when they walked from place to place or during some special occasions like the market.

"Eragon, is there anything in particular that you must do today?"

He thought for a moment, "No, I thought it would take longer to come up with an antidote, so I aligned a day and a half for it, but that was not the case. Have you a need for me?"

"I always have a need for you, but yes, actually. I need to see a few people, some of my old acquaintances from Ellesmera. I asked them to find my Father's old sword in the old armory for me. They traveled with my mother, but opted to stay in Feinster while we fought. I did not get a chance to see them before we left."

Eragon nodded, unsure as to why Arya has asked for her father's sword. There was nothing wrong with her current one. She would tell him in due time. The opted to walk through the Varden. The sun was steadily rising, but the cool breeze of the night had not yet burned away. It was…soothing.

"My father's forefathers had a Rider among them. His name was Throvan. He was part of the Drottning bloodline, but he could not take the throne as he was Rider. So, his father ruled in his stead for his term until Throvan's child was old enough to take the throne. It was with this sword, Throvan moved across Alagaesia, saving the lives of many. And after he passed away, the sword continued in the family, given to them by Rhunön. Several generations later, my father was born and his sword was passed down to him. When I was small, my father told me that one day the sword would be mine, and on the day he died, he told me that I should claim this sword when I found a purpose and a hope to fight. Eragon, before I had purpose, to bring down the Empire, but I had little hope. I knew there was no way the Varden would win in their current state. And until a few months ago, I had hope, but I lost my purpose in the grimness of war."

She paused, collecting her thoughts before she spoke again, "Because of you, Eragon, because of you, I have my hope and purpose returned to me. My hope that we can succeed has been restored, and my purpose has been found. At first, I believed my purpose was to bring the Empire down, and when this purpose was lost, I did not think I was worthy of wielding such a sword. However, I am aware that my purpose has, in fact, changed. I no longer fight to bring the Empire down. I fight for a time of peace, for a time that we can be together without fear for each other's lives, for a time when we will live separately, secluded in our own world, simply alone and in love. And if this means the Empire must be brought down, then so be it. I can finally claim the sword after ninety years of attempting to deserve it, all because of you. Thank you."

The Rider looked at her, speechless. Her words meant more to him than the demise of his greatest enemy. He would have gladly endured days of torture under the king himself just to hear her words. He brought his lips down, a slow descent, pouring all his love in one gesture, yet failing miserably at it. How could he put all he felt into one kiss? His heart was in chaos with her words, beating wildly, a feeling of pure ecstasy, he felt like jumping up and down, he felt like yelling to the world that there was no one else happier than him. And it would be the truth, there could be no one else happier than him. He broke away only to draw her in his arms, clutching her tightly.

"And thank you iet Drottningu, for loving me when I did not even think such an emotion was possible any longer. You should know that I found my purpose in you as well. My tests with the Grey Folk revealed to me what I fought for, and the answer was you. I fought for you and because of that, they found me worthy. Let us go to your friends and you can finally claim what is rightfully yours."

The princess nodded, lacing her fingers with her mate's once again and resumed walking towards the elven encampment. She quickly located their tent by a mere brush of her mind. Arya knocked on the wooden block and waited. Soon enough, two women answered her call.

"Arya, Saphira Bjartskular, Eragon Shurtugal, please come in. There is a window through which you, Bjartskular may come in through."

Saphira nodded and moved towards the side of the tent before sticking her head through the open window. Arya and Eragon entered shortly after.

"Eragon this is Tydrenea and Raerieth, my childhood friends."

Eragon nodded his greeting and bowed to the elven ladies. Tydrenea was taller, long brown hair. Her eyes were a striking purple. She was thin, far thinner than Arya, much more feminine looking. Standing tall, she would have quickly commanded presence in any room, had it not been for her small stature. Raerieth was quite different. Her hair was a striking blonde color. It was nearly white in the sun. She was shorter, more muscular, well versed in the study of the blade as he could tell by her stance. Her eyes were of a lighter, sky blue than his. For the sake of convenience, Eragon could tell they both chose slightly masculine clothing for their comfort. Tydrenea carried a small knife with her, and a bow and quiver of arrows. Raerieth, on the other hand, had two short swords with her, both slung high on her back. He could see why Arya had chosen to befriend these two of all the elven women. They were like her, yet not like her. A love for excitement ran in their eyes, but more so than that, Arya had probably enjoyed sparring with them.

The princess glanced up at him, "You know me so well iet Shurtugal."

A smile threatened to grace his features. Raerieth broke the easy silence, "How are you Shurtugal?"

Eragon turned to the elven woman, "I am quite well, however, I would ask that you call me Eragon. Any friend of Arya's is a friend of mine."

"In that case…Eragon, it is good to hear that you are well." She graced him with a smile, she was obviously in much more practice than other elves.

Tydrenea walked over to a large trunk.

"Arya, we found the sword in the armory. Here it is."

Arya took the wrapped blade from her, and removed the protective covering. The hilt was a forest color, and an emerald color, a grassy color as well. It was no use Eragon decided, the hilt, the scabbard, and the blade most likely changed shades of green in the sunlight, much like all other Riders' blades. Arya studied the weapon. It was made for her type of fighting. Not really a surprise considering she was taught the same style of fighting as her forefathers had passed on to her. Swift, deadly, agile. The sword curved slightly, perfect for a clean cut. It was a thin blade, but by no means a fragile blade. Its name was carved on the side. _Etherylas_ _(The Forest of the Wild)_. Grasping the hilt more firmly, Arya pulled the blade completely out of its scabbard. She spun it around, getting a feel for its weight and differences. To Eragon, it seemed she was dancing in the tent, moving her blade in various directions and maneuvers. With one last swipe, she placed the blade back in its place and removed the sword at her hip, replacing it with Etherylas.

She turned towards her friends, "Thank you for this wonderful gift."

Raerieth let out a small chuckle, "Please do not thank us for something as simple as this task. You have other things to thank us for."

Arya stared at her quizzically, before Tydrenea replied, "Oh yes, I do remember these times. When we were close to fifteen or so…"

"Tydrenea, you would not dare tell this story." A look of exasperation crossed Arya's eyes, or was in nervousness.

"Oh, yes, I do believe your mate needs to hear this."

The princess shook her head and moved towards her tall friend, attempting to keep her quiet. But a pair of strong arms held her back firmly, laughing in her ears, "I do think I want to hear this story now." Eragon laughed some more, his arms woven tightly across her waist.

"Eragon! Let me go! There is no way I will ever let you hear this story."

He was relentless in his grip and Arya gave up soon, realizing her efforts were futile. "Damn whatever source of strength able to keep me in your grip."

He laughed again and looked expectantly at Tydrenea to continue her story. Looks of amusement crossed their faces before she continued, much to Arya's dismay.

"Well, Eragon, when we were fifteen. Arya got into a tiff with her mother."

"No surprises there."

Raerieth let out a small laugh next. "This was a particularly bad one. There is a river close to Tialdari Hall, and Tydrenea and I were planning to go swimming. We invited Arya to come, but her mother did not give her permission, citing reasons that without a guard, she would be in danger. Unable to go with us, Arya sat in her room, pouting her mother's unfairness. Well, sitting in her room, she had a brilliant idea. She sang to some animals, coaxing them to do her bidding."

Tydrenea's face had broken into a full blown smile, "And she sent them on their merry way towards the Council meeting, throwing the entire affair into chaos as the animals listened to no one but the princess, and she was not about to let them go after a rather rude disruption. Of course, when we heard the commotion, we came running back and we saw a smug look on Arya's face. Before she could say anything, we told the others that we had some trouble singing to the animals and that the mistake would not happen again. After apologizing profusely, the elders believed we had done it and thought no more of it, except Arya's mother, who, in her defense, had a rather bemused look on her face. She knew it was you."

Arya smiled a bit, a look of confidence on her features, "Of course she knew, who else would have been that spiteful."

_My, my little princess, your misbehavior is the cause of much of my amusement today. I do not think I will get past this new revelation of yours anytime soon. _

The princess laughed harder, straining against the strong arms of her mate. She looked up at Eragon. He seemed…surprised to say the very least. His mouth was slightly open, and his eyes were on the verge of breaking his calm façade.

"Iet Drottningu, never could I have imagined such notorious behavior or devious behavior from one so loving as you."

_But I am glad, iet Drottningu, that I do know you are capable of such spontaneity. And I love you all the more for it. I would have liked to see your mother's face or even the faces of some elders at that._

Arya chuckled, pressing her back against him, and placing her arm over his. She raised her head, and pressed her lips quickly against his before turning and settling in his arms once again. The four sat down in the tent, talking of their childhood, of friends and other stories of their past. What caught Eragon the most was the even Arya's childhood friends knew little about her private life, only the mask she placed in front of them. They knew her as the fierce warrior, the renegade, the intelligent woman she was. They knew nothing of her love life, her relationship with Faolin or her troubles with her mother, they did not even know what her favorite flower was, much less the woman who had so much love in her eyes, it threatened to shatter his heart into a million pieces, or even the woman who dreamed of children and a quiet peaceful life after the war.

Her hand was still laced with his, and she began to stroke his hand with her thumb.

_Do not be so surprised. Faolin never knew of that side of me either. The only ones who do are you and Saphira. _

He tightened his hand around her, instinctively vowing to protect that side of her. Noon came around quicker than expected, Arya had chatted the time by with her old friends. Eragon did not mind, they were nice people, and he had nothing better to do anyway. But that thought was short lived.

Eragon felt another presence enter in the tent, he glanced down to see Solembum. The werecat hopped on to his lap, staring at him.

_Shadeslayer. _

_Solembum. _

_Are you not surprised to see me? _

_After a while Solembum, I have learned to simply go with it. What do you wish to tell me? _

_Angela needs to speak with you, _he glanced at Arya and her inquisitive friends before looking back at him, _you can bring a group if you would like, but I do not think the occasion fits. _

He let out small chuckle before picking up the werecat and placing him on the ground while the Rider sat up.

_You know, Shadeslayer, coming all this way was not easy. It would be much appreciated if I did not have to move the way back. _

_As you wish Solembum. _

Eragon picked the werecat up, placed a kiss on Arya's head. "Angela needs to see me."

"I will meet you there shortly."

He nodded and turned to Saphira, _Would you rather come now or later? _

_Depends, how interesting is this? Solembum?_

_Quite boring Bjartskular. _

_Then I shall stay with my elf friend and now that my Rider will leave, I can tell more embarrassing stories about him. _

_Oh my Sapphire, when has my presence ever stopped you from telling embarrassing stories about me? _

Eragon walked over and scratched the back of her ear. He turned to look at Arya one last time before smiling and saying his goodbyes to Tydreana and Raerieth. Solembum still safely tucked and curled in his arms, Eragon walked swiftly towards Angela's tent wondering what business she had with him.

"That was interesting."

Arya turned towards the speaker, Raerieth.

"What was Raerieth?"

"Well, from what I know of werecats, they do not take to anyone well, yet Solembum, is that his name?" When Arya nodded and she continued, "Solembum is quite comfortable with Eragon's touch. That is uncommon."

"He is no common man."

Tydreana laughed, "Of course he is no common man Arya. He is a Dragon Rider and your mate, your mate could never be a common man."

The princess smiled, tiring of this topic. She walked over to Saphira and sat in a chair next to her large head.

"I am happy for you Arya." The princess looked at her taller friend. "You are very lucky to have him as your mate. I can see he has already made you far happier than you have been since…well since forever."

She nodded her agreement, "He does make me happier, that is undeniable."

"Was your mother fine with your decision?"

"Initially no, but she had her own reasons and now that issue is settled." Frankly speaking, Arya had no desire to reveal the intimate parts of her life, even if it was with her two childhood friends. She had always kept to herself, that need for her privacy was only put away when she spoke to Eragon or Saphira. But she was opening up more, becoming more like the girl she was with her old friends. Never, under any circumstances, would she have let anyone restrain her as Eragon had. However, she enjoyed being his source of laughter, even at her own expense. It hardly seemed a price to pay, her obvious embarrassment to see his own magnificent laughter or to feel safe in his strong, secure arms around her. It was the little things. When he took her hand, Eragon always moved closer to her. Most others would have grabbed the other's hand and simply dragged her closer. Like leading an animal. But never Eragon. Even today, when he was restraining her, she never felt she was pulled back, on being restrained from going forward. He held her, safely, securely, but he had walked up to her instead of pulling her back. Afterwards, he had not laughed hard at her expense. Only letting out a smile showing his adoration and a confession of his love. The small things, Arya decided, was what made her fall for him in the first place.

Coming out of her own thoughts, she returned to the conversation, which had now shifted to something unimportant as the abandoned city of Ellesmera as most had left to fight in the war.

Eragon arrived at Angela's tent, Solembum asleep in his arms. The werecat was comfortably tucked away in his arms. He gently opened the flap as to not wake him. Angela glanced up, the sight of her friend resting in the arms of another of her friends. She mouthed 'thank you' and took the sleeping cat figure from his arms and placed him in his special bed somewhere inside the depths of her tent. Eragon waited patiently outside. Nothing had changed much since the last he had been here, nothing had ever changed with Angela.

She came out, a cup of steaming tea in her hand. She motioned for him to sit and quickly sat down after him.

"Eragon, we need to talk."

"I figured as much, what is it?"

"Elva is sick."

His eyes narrowed, "Elva is here!?"

"Yes, Eragon she is here and she is sick."

"How Angela?"

"How did I find her or how is she sick?"

"Both, but the latter is more important, her life was altered because of me. I should help her at any costs."

"After she ran away for the first time, I followed her and I found her. I somewhat convinced her to return, if temporarily until she is old enough to find some work for herself. Although reluctant, she agreed. But she ran away for the second time, and the only reason I found her this time was because she was bitten by a snake."

Eragon raised his head in alarm, "And the snake, was it venomous?"

"Very much so, I do not know how the child survived for as long as she did. I gave her some medication to slow the poison down, but there is nothing I can do."

Eragon nodded, "Can I see her? It is urgent I know what kind of snake this it, so we can give her the proper treatment."

Angela nodded and led him to her spare room. The Rider lifted the flap and entered slowly. Elva lay, her body breathing, but otherwise in distress. She was tossing and turning, sweat beaded her body, soaking her clothes. The snake had to have been on a rock, giving it the height to bite her arm. The piercings of the fangs were deep and covered with an abnormal green and purple marking. Bruised severely, and infected, no doubt. The Rider studied the wound. It was a savage mark of self-defense, and it had occurred in the Spine, meaning it could be of two possible venomous species. The viper or the cobra, both native to these parts. Elva must not have realized its presence.

After a thorough inspection Eragon reached his conclusion, "She will survive for a long time in this state. Well longer than normal, if we do not do anything, I guarantee her a week before she passes. As of right now, we need to gather some herbs and make a paste for the wound. It will heal the infection and then the anti venom substance will be taken care of. Angela, with the battle around the corner, I fear what will happen if she is in the open. Shift her to a room close to mine, with all the necessary arrangements, please stay there for a few days. I do not trust anyone else with her life."

"Very well Shadeslayer. I shall move her things and mine, while you find the herbs."

Eragon nodded and swiftly exited the tent. To the surprise of many, he took to the forests, calling out to Arya and Saphira.

_Arya, Saphira? I need your help. _

Their response was quick in its return. _We are on our way. What has happened? _

_It is Elva, she has been bitten by a venomous snake, which I highly suspect to be a cobra because of the size of the fang marks. I need your help finding the herbs to get rid of the infection around the wound site and those to counter the effects of the venom. _

_We are here Eragon. _

The Rider spared a glance above him, watching as Saphira descended next to him.

"I need these herbs Arya, Saphira," he sent them a mental picture of the various herbs, "can you find them?"

Arya nodded and took off into the forest, Eragon close on her heels. Saphira took to the sky, using her expert dragon's sight to locate the herbs. After several hours of searching, they had finally gathered what they needed.

_Saphira, we need to head to our room. Angela shifted her belongings and Elva there. _

The majestic dragon put on a burst of speed and flew straight towards the dragonhold. Eragon leapt off the saddle, sparing a glance at Arya before locating where Angela had kept Elva. He ran towards the room and entered.

"Good, you are here Eragon, her fever has gotten worse in the past minute or so."

Arya laid the herbs down in an organized fashion. She sat on the bedside, watching the girl carefully. Sensing the heat radiating off her body, she moved to open the window to let the breeze, providing some temporary relief. The princess watched as Eragon frantically mixed and blended herbs together. He was efficient, Oromis had taught him well.

Eragon pulled a bottle of whiskey from Angela's stock. He poured the contents in a large bowl and pulled the alcohol out of the substance. He mixed the alcohol with the herbs, creating a thick paste of a sorts. He swiftly walked towards the bed and pulled back the covers to reveal her wound. Carefully, as to disturb her as little as possible, he began to smooth the green paste over the bite marks. It was a thick layer, nearly a centimeter thick. Practically covering half her arm, the paste began to harden under the wind.

"Angela, leave the paste like this. It should harden soon with the wind, do not cover it up, natural air and processes are a key to getting rid of the infection." His voice turned deep again, as if he was musing to himself, "And now for the venom."

He was back at the table, throwing, mixing, grinding herbs with a skill few had. His new concoction was ready. He sat back down by the bedside, and gently lifted the sleeping girl up into a sitting position. He gently opened her mouth and poured the foul looking liquid down her throat. After ensuring there was no chance for her choking, Eragon laid her back down. He dampened a towel and rested it against Elva's forehead. Smoothing her hair back, Eragon tucked it away from her neck, trying to ensure she was as comfortable as possible.

Arya watched him with careful eyes, the love for him shining through. He was a tender man. Even with the turmoil he had been through, he had been forced to endure, he was a tender man. It was evident in his actions, the way he carefully, gently began to nurse Elva back to health.

Arya rested a hand on his back, soothingly rubbing back and forth. He glanced towards her, his eyes never meeting hers. He sighed and looked at Angela, "The pastes need to be remade everyday, so that is what I shall do. In the meantime, please make sure the towel is changed every hour or so, it will help with her fever."

Angela nodded, for once, her eyes somber, worry for the girl evident in her eyes. Eragon raised himself off the bed and moved to exit the room.

"Eragon," the Rider paused, unwilling to turn around at the witch's voice, "thank you for helping her."

He half turned around, but left the room soon after, Arya close behind him, her hand linked with his. It was still light outside, and would be for quite some hours.

"Iet Drottningu?"

Arya looked up at her mate, her response to his question written in her eyes.

"Would you like to see your mother now?"

She smiled and tightened her hand around his, "Of course, she should know I have taken Father's sword."

They made their way over to Saphira.

_How is Elva little one? _

Eragon frowned and looked away, deciding how to answer her question.

_For the sake of honesty Saphira, not well. The poison injected by the snake was in the body for quite some time, at least twenty minutes. The normal time limit for a human injected with that much venom is nearly forty-five minutes, if not shorter. I fear we were too late, however, the anti venom and the paste for the infection in the bite will work as best as it can. I put the most I could, the highest dose without harming her….I do not know Saphira, she is a child, and forced to endure what I have put her through. What have I done?_

_You made a mistake little one, everyone is allowed those. But you tried to correct it, and you did somewhat succeed. That is more than others can say. Now, you are trying your best to help another. _

He made no reply, only sending his gratitude in response. He deftly climbed on Saphira, behind Arya and they left to the Queen's tent continuing their conversation. Gracefully dismounting Saphira, Eragon held a hand for Arya to lift herself off the giant dragon. Before, Saphira was small enough that Arya could jump off without difficulty, but her growing size and the elven princess's lack of experience of such high heights was impeding. Eragon, on the other hand, was quite used to jumping off high heights and his newfound Grey Folk powers increased his agility and balance. His arm wrapped lightly around Arya's waist as they walked towards the tent. It was interesting to see the reactions of some elves. Even with Faolin, they were unaccustomed to such public announcements of the relationships of their princess. But, it was hard to miss with Eragon as her mate, and the fact she was comfortable with his touch spoke volumes of her feelings on the matter.

Arya knocked lightly, letting her mother know she had arrived. With a shuffling sound from the inside, the tent flap opened. Embracing her mother, Arya entered the tent, leading Eragon in with her.

The Queen stayed outside a little longer to greet Saphira and then motioned to open the window in her elegant tent. Giving a lighter embrace to Eragon, accompanied with a kiss on his cheek, she held a hand out for them to sit down.

"I see, my daughter, that you have a new sword."

Arya smiled warmly, "Yes, I now believe myself worthy of such a weapon."

The Queen nodded and fell silent again.

"How was your trip back, Your Highness?"

Islanzadi turned toward the Rider, her emotionless gaze falling on him. "Quite well actually, no unexpected occurrences along the way. Not even an animal attack. I will say, however, that the prisoners were rather misbehaved."

She fell silent once more, as if contemplating her thoughts. "I sent them to Ellesmera, I wanted Luehar and Ansris to see what they could learn from them."

"Luehar and Ansris are two of the wisest elves I have ever met."

The Queen chuckled a bit, "Yes, I suppose that is true. What they differ in is their ability to learn. Most elves simply learn to memorize and achieve perfection, but they have memorized how to learn and that particular skill has allowed them to expand their knowledge in various areas. Not much unlike you Eragon."

The Rider let a hesitant smile, obviously uncomfortable with the uncommon praise he was receiving from the Queen of elves. Although, he did notice her to be much more open since his feelings for Arya became mutual.

He, nonetheless, suavely replied, "Thank you, Your Highness." The conversation moved from him to other, rather unimportant topics in his opinion. Mainly about other nobles and their advice, the Queen's disposition towards some of them, some talented elven young hoping to participate in the war. The Rider sat, trying his best to look thoroughly interested, and luckily he succeeded, at least in the eyes of the Queen. His mate, on the other hand, sent her amusement across their link multiple times as he stifled a yawn.

It was late at night when they had agreed it was best to rest before the next day. They headed towards their room as Saphira flew overhead to the Dragonhold. The elven Queen would be shifting her possessions to a room as the elves under her direct command would be staying until the Varden and the elves meet at Dras – Leona. As far as the Queen knew, the elves were holding Gilead very well. The Empire attacks were small forces, usually scouting parties that were unable to escape the keen eyes of the elves. So far, no army big enough to threaten the stronghold was on the way. And without Murtagh, they had nothing to fear any longer since the Shade that had attacked.

Slowly making their way towards their room, Eragon stopped a few feet from the door before heading towards Angela's room. He looked at Arya, an assurance she was still there, and knocked. A shuffling only discernible to his elven senses made itself apparent, seconds later the door opened. The Rider glanced at the witch and walked through, seeking what he wanted in the first place.

Arya stayed close to the door, watching her mate from a distance. He hovered over the bed before lightly sitting down on the edge of the mattress. He lifted a hand, worry etched in his eyes, and rested against Elva's forehead. She had a fever still, but it had slightly lessened. Gently lifting her arm, Eragon examined the progress of his medication. Satisfied with its effects, he added the rest over the bite wounds. After tucking the covers tightly around the girl's motionless body, Eragon took a cloth, soaked it in chilled water, squeezed out the excess, and then laid and flattened the cloth over her forehead. He smoothed the creases out, moved her hair, and wiped away any dripping water.

She smiled at him, he would make a great father. Eragon glanced at her, his thoughts heavy with his worry over Elva's condition. The princess could feel Angela's smile at the sight of Eragon taking care of Elva, but she diplomatically said nothing. She watched as Eragon lifted himself up and walked over to her. Sliding his hand around her waist, he kissed the top of her head as she turned in his arms.

Angela mouthed her thanks as he led them out of the room and into theirs. Shrugging out of his tunic, Eragon cleaned his teeth with magic and changed into his felt pants. He slipped under the covers, his torso bare against the breeze sweeping through the room. Arya slipped out of her usual stiff leather armor before selecting one of Eragon's larger tunics. She preferred his tunics to her own. Most of hers were tight fitting, shorter, not exactly cut for a comfortable sleep, but a composed, casual wear. His were the same on his larger frame, but perfect for her. Not to mention, it fell to halfway on her thighs, meaning it could pass as a nightdress. Directing the wind to wave the candles out, Arya crawled into bed close to Eragon. He was already lightly asleep on his back. Moving closer, Arya pulled herself against his chest, resting her head over his steadily beating heart and wrapped her arms around his waist. He awoke, but only long enough to close his arms around her before returning to asleep again. Arya looked up at his face, lifting herself ever so softly to get a better view of his beloved face. He had a frown. She hated it when he was like this. At least in his sleep, he should have been able to leave his problems in this realm.

Leaning down, she kissed his frown away, gently moving her lips over his until he responded in turn. He awoke, his eyes still closed, but his mouth moved over her far more strongly. Deepening the kiss, Eragon let one hand wander through her dark tresses. He pulled away, his special smile on his face. Resting a hand on her cheek, he caressed her accented cheekbone. His face lost its smile, a serious look coming over face as he continued to caress her cheek. There was no pain she could not take from him. Even now, his tightened chest relaxed against her assault of his senses. Was there anything he could have denied her? He doubted it.

She rested her head back down on his chest, pleased with her success. His hands moved to her back, enveloping her, holding her safely to him. Was there anything that could hurt her if she had him? She doubted it. Arya was indestructible now. No pain, not even the nightmares her mind thought up for her caused her grief with him. Her enemies quivered when they realized she had Eragon by her side. She sighed, knowing she was lost, vulnerable without him.

The wind gust strengthened, eliciting a shiver from her end. She snuggled closer, her hands splayed over his muscular chest. A smile formed on her face, he was there with her now. The elven princess fell asleep, her troubles ceased for the day.

The morning came with the usual banging at their door. How in the world were there so many things to do at one time, Eragon would never be able to understand. Carefully moving underneath Arya, he got off the bed and went to answer the summons. He opened the door slightly, leaving it ajar.

"Shurtugal."

"Nari, it is good to see you again."

"And you as well. I am here to deliver a message. A messenger from the Empire has just arrived. They will commence the battle sunrise the morning to come."

"Very well, thank you Nari. Is there a war council this morning?"

"Not this morning, this afternoon midday. We believed that all the leaders should know this bit of information as soon as possible."

"I understand, thank you Nari."

The elf bowed ever so slightly and left the premises. He was part of the Queen's entourage to move her things to a room in the castle. That room would be closer to Nasuada's, on the second floor, farther from the dragonhold. Their room was on the fifth, high up with a balcony, closer to the dragonhold at his request. He glanced down, he forgot he was not wearing a tunic. It was a good thing that Nari had given him the message, he would not have wanted any problems from the females in the Varden. He, as a distraction from any duty, would be very harmful to the Varden's precarious position.

MATURE CONTENT DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO

Locking the door, Eragon made his way back to the bed. It was barely six forty five in the morning. He climbed on top of the bed, a mischievous smile on his face. Straddling her hips, he brought his arms on either side of her head before bending down ever so slowly to her neck. His lips moved over her smooth skin, nipping, biting over ever inch they could muster. She awoke frantically, taken completely by surprise. Arya moved her arms, trying to close the space between them, but just as quickly as she awoke, Eragon had her arms pinned on the bed, successfully preventing any movement.

Laughing as he made his way over to her ear, and finally to her lips, Arya maneuvered her legs so he fell hard against her. Her hands clutched his head closer to hers, all laughter burned away by her ever growing desire. She felt him pull back, but she held on, momentarily stopping her demand.

Her voice breathy, husky, practically unrecognizable to even herself, she asked, "Will you finish what you started? Or shall I?"

Feeling his smile against her lips, she followed his hands with hers as he lifted his tunic off her. Kissing every sensitive area on her body, he removed his felt pants and pushed the covers over them. He briefly felt the heat of the sun on his back, but he ignored it for the heat of their desire was a stronger burning. If he could have it anyway, it would only be them, no battles, no interrupting messengers, only them until time itself ended. He loved her like this, fiery, hot, the Arya he only knew.

Bringing himself back to her lips, he deepened the kiss. Eragon let his control go, letting his desire for his mate take control over his body. And together, they let the rising sun act as a testimony for their growing love.

END MATURE CONTENT

Temporarily sated from their wild love-making, the Rider gracefully lifted his muscular body off of Arya, ensuring he did not crush her with his larger body. Still in a daze, he smiled at his elf, his arm encircling her waist, his head supported by his propped up arm. All of his losses could never compare to his gains. Saphira and Arya were all he would ever need to live a life happily.

Planting a kiss over his lips, Arya snuggled out of bed. The cool wind a jolt to her naked body. Stretching lazily, she threw Eragon's felt pants back at him. Glancing back with a smile, she entered the bathroom, opened the tap and let the hot water pour down her body. She smiled as she heard the door creak open. Her eyes were greeted by her Rider standing next to her, the hot water coating his body as well. Her throat dry from his hair wet and disheveled from her ministrations, she continued to stare at him.

"You forgot this." Eragon held up a towel, a naughty glint in his eyes. He was greeted by her laughter, and a piece of sudsy soap in his face. He washed it out, cleaning his eyes out for his retaliation. Grabbing the soap, he pushed Arya into a corner of the shower stall and moved it over her body. Directing the water so it washed her body of all the bubbles, he motioned to do the same to himself.

Quickly stopping his attempt to clean himself, Arya used her renowned elven speed to grab the bar of soap from his hands. She backed him into the opposite corner, and rubbed the soap over his body. Expecting the hot water to wash his body away, he smiled at her. Instead, her eyes turned mischievous, and he was pelted with ice cold water. Practically yelping because of the sudden coldness, Eragon quickly pulled Arya towards him. Soon they were both shivering and laughing while the cold water continued to wash over them.

Turning the water off, Eragon lifted her small body in his arms in an effort to warm her shivering frame. Immediately wrapping her in the towel, he led her outside and muttered a spell to close the balcony door and another so that the towel would emit heat to warm her up. He took another towel, dried himself, and put on a pair of breeches before grabbing another to dry her magnificent locks of hair. Lifting her once again, he placed her on a chair in front of the mirror and reached for a comb.

Arya watched the droplets of water drip down his chest as he carefully smoothed the knots in her hair out. She was used to yanking, either by her part, or some other elves assigned to take care of her hair for a special occasion. Nothing like this. Nothing she had ever done compared to this. Nothing could compare to the sight of her mate, bare from waist up, his scent of the ocean wind permeating her senses, the water drops descending down his chest like they always did after he took a shower, as if he was too lazy to ensure every droplet was dried off. Nothing could compare to his loving gaze fixed on her as he slowly, painlessly willed her knots to become undone. Nothing compared to the sensation of his hands alternating running through her hair with the comb, just because he simply could.

Finishing minutes later, Eragon leaned down, placing his head next to hers and locking his gaze with hers in the mirror.

"Iet Drottningu, iet Drottningu nuanen (My Princess, my beautiful Princess)-" He turned his head, kissing her cheek, "What would you like to do today?" He nudged her cheek with his nose, nuzzling her neck and ears, inhaling her fresh scent of pinecones.

Her voice was barely above a whisper, husky. She lifted her hand to lay it lightly across his cheek and turned to face him. A tender kiss between the two of them left them both breathless.

The sounds of a waking Varden brought them out of their trance. Sitting down next to Arya, he stated, "The war council meets at noon. Nari came this morning and told me. A messenger from the Empire came earlier this morning and said they would commence battle tomorrow morning at sunrise."

He looked away, "And Angela has already distributed the antidotes. Have all the men been outfitted for battle?"

"Yes, iet Skölir, they have. All the new soldiers anyway."

"Then all I know that needs to be done is see how Elva fared through the night and then attend the war council, finalize strategy, and fight tomorrow morning."

Arya chuckled slightly, "A rather bleak order of events."

He smiled, capturing her gaze with the intensity of his eyes, "Never, never iet gedwey fëon, could my day be bleak with you by me."

She smiled, nuzzling his nose, far too satisfied to answer him. Much to her dismay, Eragon lifted his head up and made his way over to their closet. Pulling out a black tunic to wear, he fastened his sword around his waist and looked in the mirror, checking to see if it was satisfactory enough.

Realizing she was still clad in a towel, she put on her usual leather, tight fitting pants, but chose a green tunic instead. Picking up her sword, her new sword _Etherylas, _she fastened it into her belt and attached the knife to her arm. She watched as Eragon waited until she was dressed appropriately before he opened the door and walked in the opposite direction towards Elva's and Angela's room. He heard a bustling and moving of large items, he could only infer that the Queen of elves had made her way to her new room across the leader of the Varden.

Knocking on the door, Arya by his side, Eragon entered quietly, thanks to his elven skills. Angela was awake, though, from the looks of her eyes, it was not a long while since she awoke. Nodding to the elder witch, Eragon remade the paste and the antivenom serum. Carefully cleaning Elva's arm from all the dried green gunk he had slobbered over her the previous day, he examined the progress. The cut had healed well, there was little infection left, but there would be scars. He reapplied the green paste and poured more of the anti venom serum, coaxing down her throat by running a firm finger down the front of her neck, easing the muscles down. Gently laying her back in her bed, Eragon turned to Angela.

"I have some news for you."

"What is it Shadeslayer?"

Eragon sighed, he hated being the bringer of bad news, but this was something that could not be put off for later. "We have reason to believe that one of the two Shades will attempt to enter the fortress walls. If that is the case, if you feel a fluctuation of the balance of evil magic, then I want you to take Elva, go to the farthest door to the right and exit. It is a secret passageway that I have discovered from a book I have read. Only in the most dire of circumstances will you move her, any movement as of now, could potentially be fatal in her unstable condition."

Eragon saw the witch's brow furrow. "And what of you Shadeslayer? Will you not accompany us if we decide to leave a losing battle?"

Looking her dead in the eye, his expression cold and heartless, Eragon became the warrior he was supposed to be. A warrior who felt nothing and cared even less. This was a war, and wars must be fought. "If the Varden should fall, then I fall with them. I will not run even if I am the last warrior standing. I will stay and fight, a losing battle it may be, but I will stay and fight."

Angela looked away, "If that time should come, whether it be in the next battle or the battle of the next months, I bid you peace. I bid you luck, Rider, luck so that you will survive, and live an easy life with it."

Eragon chuckled darkly, his mood changed from what Angela was asking him to do. "Surviving is never easy, death is. Death is the hardest on those the dead leave behind. Surviving with those deaths on your conscience is the difficult aspect of this war…" As if catching himself, Eragon swiftly spoke again, "I shall see you later tonight, to check on Elva, and then I shall see you tomorrow morning, and then we shall see if I see you again."

Giving the witch no chance to reply, Eragon abruptly turned and walked out the door, his mood changed from the conversation. He felt a slight pressure on his hand. Looking down, he saw Arya's hand, pale and light, a contrast to his tanned skin. It seemed as if she was unsure of his want for contact. But he needed it. He desperately needed it. Tightening his hold on Arya's hand, he glanced down into her eyes, his gratitude flowing through his connection. The Rider thought back to the conversation, there was nothing Angela had said that warranted such a cold attitude. Meaning, that feeling must have originated elsewhere. Arya's connection was open to him, but no feelings of that sort made their way into her head. The only other possibility was Saphira, but her connection was closed to him. _That is odd. Saphira's connection should never have been closed to me. Especially since I did not realize she had awoken. _Tracking the feeling, he located the originating feeling in his mind. Indeed it did come from a void where his and Saphira's strong connection should have been present.

His eyes in alarm, he quickly scanned the grounds for Saphira's presence. Letting go of Arya's hand, he sprinted towards her location.

Feeling Arya close behind him, he spoke to her mentally.

_Arya, I am sorry for not warning you. Saphira has closed her mind to me, meaning whatever she is feeling, she does not want me to know. _The Rider jumped over a large log across the ground._ However the connection between Rider and dragon is such that one cannot completely cut off the connection, unless separated by death. Even distance cannot sever the connection, which is why Saphira and I were quite restless without each other. _Sailing clear over a small river, Eragon continued running, propelled by his momentum and need to find his dragon again. _The feelings of worry, fear, and what not were still prevalent, and amplified by each other's worry. As of right now, all I feel is Saphira's cold, hard rage. Most would think her rage is uncontrolled, impulsive, short sighted, but in truth, _he ducked under a tree, temporarily losing his footing, _when Saphira is seeping with anger, she becomes cold, emotionless, her sights hell bent on destruction, and nothing more._ Stumbling a little, he regained his footing, and continued his relentless pursuit._ That feeling seeped into to me while speaking with Angela, hence my unusual reaction. I need to find her. _

_I understand, is she close?_

_She is now. _

Eragon slowed at the edge of a forest side of a small lake. He recognized it, it was where his half brother and Thorn had fallen. But the Rider could be less concerned with their memory, only with his beautiful Sapphire sitting on the ground, staring out into the lake, a blank look, yet turmoil deep inside. Walking up to her, Eragon laid a hand on Saphira's left foreleg.

_Little one. _

_My Great Sapphire, what troubles you? _

_You have found me. _

_That is not what is troubling you. _

Saphira snaked her neck around and stared at her Rider with thoughtful eyes. _Little one, I had a dream, but it did not seem like a dream to me. _

_What dream could possibly send my Sapphire into a rage that could quell even the raging sea? _

_I had a dream that the Rider of my father and Galbatorix were close friends. _

Eragon closed his eyes, now he knew the source of her anger. Her father chose a person who could not see evil, a blinded man, and in Saphira's eyes, because of the nature of the events, an unworthy Rider. It was a disgrace for a dragon for his or her Rider to be considered a disgrace. In Saphira's mind, her father had chosen a man unworthy, disgraced by his choice of friends. She believed she was sired by an unworthy dragon, a disgrace of a dragon.

_Saphira, I have always heeded your words, now heed mine. _

Saphira looked back out to the lake, her head bowed down slightly.

_Your father was a great dragon, never unworthy, never disgraced in all his time. We all forget that once, Galbatorix was also a great man. A man worthy of being a Dragon Rider. But we forget that he made a mistake…a mistake. A mistake most would have died from, one that I would surely have died from if I had made. His mistake caused him to lose his other half, and he could not hang on to his sanity. Begging for a replacement, he was denied, but all he wanted was something to fill the void. He was a good person, Saphira, until he lost his mind and became unable to make coherent decisions. He became hell bent on revenge. But until then, Galbatorix was a good person, and those he made friends with were also good people, just like the Rider your father chose. _

Her Rider let his words sink in, hoping they would help some. He turned his gaze back to his surroundings. Arya had lain a comforting hand on the Great Sapphire dragon, and like him stared at their surroundings. The rising sun gave way to the shining, blood red diamond monument for Thorn and Murtagh.

_Saphira?_

_Yes, Little one? _

_Why did you come here, of all places, why here at the site of Murtagh's and Thorn's death? _

_Because I too was ashamed, disgraced. _

_What are you talking of Saphira? _

_You forget, I am dragon. Prided in our logic and reasoning, our majestic entities, and I failed to find a way to save my tortured kin. I am disgraced. _

_Saphira, do not ever think as such. We did what we had to do, to save the rest of Alagaesia, we made our sacrifices. _

_I cannot help but think there were other ways. _

_Other ways? Of course there were. There were thousands of other ways, but none that we could incorporate with their command to kill or capture us. Believe me, I have run through the battle a thousand times in my head, and occasionally during each day. There was no other, possible choice for us, we did what we had to do. And you are not a disgraced dragon, neither is your Father, and neither will you ever be a disgraced dragon. Now let us go back, we cannot let these anger filled thoughts cloud our minds. _

_Little one? _

_Yes Saphira? _

_Thank you for coming. _

Eragon walked towards her giant head. Stroking her neck lovingly, he placed a kiss on her neck. Hoisting himself onto her saddle, he held a hand out to his mate, and together, the three rose towards Feinster, a battle underway, and tasks to be filled. The war council was not until midday, and they had close to four hours until that time. Moving between the different camps, visiting acquaintances, talking with old friends took up most of the time. Eragon spent a great deal of time with Roran and Katrina. His sister-in-law was close to seven months pregnant. Her movements were more labored and more often that not, either Eragon or Roran helped Katrina move around the house.

The sparring grounds proved to be an interesting place as well. The Rider sparred with a few men, working on their foot technique and swiftness. Arya, on the other hand, chose to go over battle tactics with the twelve elven spellcasters. Their positions were already determined, divide and conquer. Blodhgarm would be leading the fifty elves into the midst of the enemies, and the other eleven, including Arya would stand guard at various entrance points and wait for the Shade there. A dangerous proposition, but the Varden could not spare more than necessary warriors to stand guard. Facing a Shade alone, for any amount of time was daunting, but these elves were satisfied they could handle themselves until help arrived. But the Rider was not satisfied, how could he be when his mate was one of the twelve martyrs.

_Do not think like that! _Arya's voice rang sharply in his mind. _I am perfectly capable of surviving myself. _

_Iet Drottningu, as I have said before, I mean no harm to your independence, I know of your skills, I revel in them. But do not discount the skill of a Shade. The last Shade you faced took out fifteen elven commanders within minutes of fighting, and captured you as well. What I felt then, that fear, was consuming, Arya. I felt as if my world was torn, and what was left, was a hole, ruthlessly ripped from my heart, my soul, where you should have been. I knew sadness, I knew hopelessness, I knew frustration, anticipation, anxiety, but never, never have I felt true fear before. Raw, unadulterated fear. I am not afraid of dying Arya, but I am terribly afraid of losing you. _

_Then do not fear. I was captured, but you brought me back. If I engage a Shade, then you shall be there, with me, helping me fell the monster. I am stronger because of you. _

_And I, because of you. _

Arya watched as Eragon sauntered over, finishing his last minute lesson with the warriors. Sending a smile, he greeted the other elves and stood next to her, participating in the conversation. Soon, however, a messenger arrived with news that the war council was beginning and that they both should be present as soon as possible. Saphira, knowing she would become thoroughly bored, took off towards forest finding some animals to prey on.

Sauntering back towards the main Varden encampment, the messenger bowed his boyish head as he walked back. Eragon looked after his curiously. It was strange, in all his time here, that same boy delivered his messages, and never stayed long enough to reap some benefits. Jarsha was different, he always stayed until he was dismissed. Dale, at least, that is what someone had called him during a meeting, was quite the opposite. He shook the thoughts out of his head. He shook the thought of why a boy of less than fifteen years could be that rigidly uncomfortable in his presence even after all their encounters. It was not out of respect that he never met the Rider's eye, but out of fear.

A hand on his shoulder broke him from his thoughts. As it slid down his muscular arm and laced its fingers through his, his musings turned their attention on other things immediately. Out of worry and puzzlement, only love, wonder, and adoration remained. Her very presence rendered feelings other than those present unable to take control. It seemed easy to say his world revolved around the elven princess close to his side, and in a way, it did. There were multiple times he wanted to simply pick up his things and run far away from the war, but she made him stay. He thought of all that he fought for, all that he fought to protect, and she was always foremost on his mind. He fought for her, he fought so that one day, there could be a day where she would not have to fight any longer, where she would not have to worry about losing all those dear to her, where she would not have to risk her life everyday in the name of freedom.

He felt Arya's fingers tighten around his own as she led him away from the sparring grounds. These war councils proved tedious to her. There was not much they could discuss further, only the same arguments with similar conclusions. The only meetings she thoroughly enjoyed were the ones where Trianna made a fool of her herself, or where Eragon had made a fool of everyone else. She suspected Eragon already knew, but Arya hated the human witch with a passion she knew not how at the time. Arya hated how the witch's eyes would trail her Rider, her mate, her Eragon as he walked about in the war council. And her looks, she was exquisite for human standards, attractive for elven standards, and far more willing than herself for the Rider's affections. The princess believed that she would be too late, that Trianna would act too quickly for her, and Eragon would be taken away from her.

Then…then, she could never have imagined that he loved her enough to continue to love her after she rejected him, through all the pain she had put him through, love enough to stay with her, by her side as an acquaintance, as a friend, as a lover, and finally, as a mate.

The war council tent loomed closer and closer, yet neither was picking up their pace as they drew nearer to their destination. War council was not something to be enjoyed, personally, Eragon preferred to be told where to stay and what to do, but that was never the case. The faint voices could be made out, however, their words were made indiscernible by the magic of the elves.

The Nighthawks knew better than to question them. The Rider of the Varden and the ambassador of the elves were not those to be taken lightly. Striding into the tent, Eragon made a quick bow to the leaders while nodding his head to others. Arya remained stoic, greeting by none than a simple acknowledgement of their existence. Her eyes glazed over the human witch of the Du Vrangr Gata, no effort made to even see her. They took their respective places. Eragon, by his former liege lord and next to the elven ambassador, and Arya, next to the dwarves and the Lord Rider. Through meetings, it became quite customary for them to discuss plans and opinions before speaking publicly.

Eragon listened half heartedly as they discussed numbers from the outcome of the battle tomorrow. He was interested in strategy, not the numbers of economics and commerce made from them. He traced Arya's gaze as it lingered over Nasuada's stressed face. Sadness filled her eyes, his princess was truly sympathizing with Nasuada's position. Young, yet such a burden on her shoulders. Attempting to alleviate her sadness, Eragon rested his hand over her thigh, moving his fingers in a soothing motion over her muscular leg. Her eyes never left the leader of the Varden, but her thanks was given by her hand covering his.

"And now we move to tactics."

His ears perking up, Eragon's attention returned to the matter at hand. The battle would commence as planned, sunrise of the next day. The elves, led by Blodhgarm would target the magic users of the Empire in a company fifty strong. Cloaked by a spell of invisibility, they would weave their way through the ranks and silently take out the magicians. The rest of the battle would take place in a conventional matter. The Varden soldiers, led by Roran and a few other commanders Eragon did not know the names of would stand in the front line. The Urgals would flank them, led by Nar Garzvhog, and beside them still were the elves, and behind everyone the dwarves would operate their machines when the sign was given that the elves were safely out of harm's way. When the catapults worked no more, Saphira and Eragon would take to the skies, engaging the Shade if it attacked or burning the soldiers. Arya, and Blodhgarm when he returned, would guard the twelve possible entrance points and alert the others and Eragon if the Shade did attack their area. Although reluctant to give up the task, Eragon agreed that if the Shade did not engage him in anyway, then the Rider would let the other, powerful elves handle it while he waited for news on the other Shade, and to destroy as many soldiers as possible. The biggest challenge would be to bring the numbers down.

The sun began to sink, marking the last night before the battle. The soldiers became uneasy as they watched the war council tent break apart, each member off to their respective destinations. A surprise attack had its advantages. No soldier, no warrior could be left to their own about what they should do. But close to eleven hours remained for these warriors to contemplate their upcoming battle, to contemplate running away. Eragon sighed. Saphira had returned from her hunting trip. It was more than successful, he deduced, as she now lay curled in the dragonhold, sleepiness overcome in her senses.


	10. Chapter35 A battle of mundance remembran

Chapter 35: A battle of mundane remembrance.

Elva needed to be cared for, it was the last thing he would do before a hot meal and a good night's rest. Two Shades, magicians, and seventy thousand soldiers from the Empire on their doorstep was no easy task. _At least, _he thought, _at least he would not have to be alone any longer. _Though the prospect of losing others in this battle was far more than he could bear. Trudging up the stairs, Eragon made his way towards Elva's room. Arya had chosen to accompany the elves till their camp, and then settle her mother in before coming home for the night.

Not bothering to knock, Eragon silently entered the room and went over the routine checks of Elva's condition. She fared far better than he could have ever imagined. The hallucinations that accompanied high fevers were gone with the high fever. Her erractic heartbeat fell steady, even if it was beating at a rate of ninety beats per minute. Sweat dried on her forehead and clothes, no longer was her face drowning in her own liquid. The infection in the bite had been significantly reduced and her skin had returned to a healthy white with a little patch of red from the previous blue and green hues that surrounded the entry of snake's fangs. Satisfied at with her progress, he left a note for Angela and made his way to the room next door.

Opening the door to the balcony, he took in the fragrance of fresh air. Luckily, their room was facing the other side of the Varden, towards the ocean. No smell of sweating human men wafted through the air as was often the case before battles. He turned back into the room, the distinct scent of pinecones seeping through his senses. That alone had a presence of familiarity he longed for. A knock on the door propelled Eragon towards the contraption. Hoping to see her beautiful face looking back at him, he opened it widely, a smile on his features. Discovering it was simply a man sent to give him his dinner, Eragon erased his smile and took the food from the man. _Of course it could not have been Arya, she would not have knocked. _

His stupidity was unbecoming. Setting the table, he used magic to keep the food hot. His mate was not here yet, and no doubt she would be hungry after today's events. Bored with his own inability to be entertained, he stripped his body bare, and put on his customary felt pants. It was far too hot to wear a shirt, there was simply no need. The sun descended further, and even though his elven senses could penetrate the dark, he was wary of being alone in such a dark place. Lighting candles with a simple thought to do so, he laid on the bed, his pillows propped up against the bed frame so he was sitting in it. Taking his quill and a piece of parchment, he began writing. Perhaps, after the war was over, perhaps he could be a writer or a poet.

_The words…of course Ancient Language, what other language is there? Words…what shall I write of? _His mood was solemn, something dark and dangerous lurking deep within the reaches of his soul. It was interesting, lately, Eragon could feel his soul being stained, marked for his day of judgment. _The night before the battle is always a time of remembrance. _He smiled, the night before his previous battle, he and Arya had made love to each other, a statement of their love, a testament to their everlasting love. But before that, the nights before a battle were…horrid.

His quill touched the paper, and he began his work.

_Remembrance Night_

_Remembrance, remember, remembering_

_What else can there be,_

_On a night such as this_

_On a night where the next knows not who stays_

_And even less who goes_

_What else can there be,_

_There was once a time, _

_A time when I was alone,_

_Another when I was loved_

_And even another when I was neither_

_There could be a time_

_when I fear,_

_when I was feared,_

_when there was no fear. _

_But that is not for tonight. _

_Tonight is for preparation, _

_Preparation of the mind, hardening of the heart, stripping of the soul_

_In order for nothing to remain_

_What else can there be? _

_For a battle on the morrow_

_And a battle in the past, _

_But a battle in the present, _

_With the enemy as yourself. _

_Remembrance, remember, remembering_

_That is all there is _

_On a night such as this_

He placed the quill down, reading the poem to himself. It was not the best he could have done, but it suited his mood, and the mood of the day. He signed and dated the poem. _August 7__th__, the year of battle of Feinster, after the Battle of the Sea, the year marking the death of the Rider of the Last Order, Oromis, and his dragon, Glaedr. The year marking the death of the first Rider of the new order, Murtagh and his dragon Thorn. The night marking the day before the battle to keep Feinster. Eragon Shadeslayer, Rider of Saphira, Mate to Arya, Son of Brom of Kuasta, Bane of the Razac, Lord Rider at Vroengard, Master Rider of Alagaesia, Descendent of the Grey Folk._

Hearing the silent, yet quickened footsteps of an elven princess did nothing to lift him from his position. He waited, staring at the poem, at the direness of it. He placed on the bedside, covering it lightly. Just as the door opened, Eragon had gotten out of bed and greeted Arya by the door. Padding barefoot towards her, the Rider kissed his mate before smiling, his eyes clouded from the solemn mood within him.

"Dinner is ready." Arya smiled at him before he continued, "And no, I did not cook it, so if it is good, then you cannot call me a feminine man."

He was rewarded with her laughter, as she clearly remembered the time when she had eaten the soup he made for her on their trip to Ellesmera. _Remembering, is there nothing we can do to stop this remembering? _ His thoughts clouded once again, he looked into her piercing eyes. Her laughter died down, obviously aware of his turmoil. Closing the distance between them, Arya walked towards him. One hand rested on his cheek, successfully binding their gazes together. The other traveled up and down his torso, tracing his defined muscles, soothing his tension. Trying this best to keep his mind away from her hand leaving a burning trail where it roved over his chest, down his abdominal muscles, tracing each curve, each raised portion where the evidence of his hard work was so perfectly molded together, he kept his gaze on her eyes.

"Love, what is wrong?"

Her melodious voice, he could bask in her voice. Just that part of her could bring him out of sorrow. He shook his head, kissing her forehead lightly.

"I shall show you later."

Arya frowned, later was not an acceptable answer. They were past the point of giving each other space. They were either one entity or nothing at all. Slipping through his barriers, she weaved her way through his mind until she came up upon his most recent memories, his poem to be exact. Stepping out of his embrace, she picked up the piece of parchment and read over his words. Looking at him one last time, her expression unreadable, she muttered a few words, and the parchment burned in her hand. Her mate stared at her, a blank look on his face.

Reprimanding him for being such a depressed man without her, she walked over and rested a hand over his beating heart, "Do not, under any circumstances, chose a dismal topic like a battle for the subject of your poetry." Leaning in closer, she placed her lips against his sternum, before gently wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. "I did not know it before, but I happen to hate when your beautiful words, when your skill with poetry is used to describe such a disturbing topic. It was a very well written poem, something to have been treasured for years to come, however, I do not like when your words, used for things as beautiful as telling me you love me, or praising the beauty of the land, or saving others' lives, are used to capture a moment that best be forgotten."

Bringing his arms around her, Eragon returned her embrace, his head resting comfortably on hers. For some reason, when she burned that latest poem of his, he felt relieved. As if she had taken the burden of knowing what everyone does before the day their very lives may be taken from them. He could forget he had ever written it, so long as he would always have the woman in his arms, the woman he loved, in his arms, protecting him from grimness of his memories.

Lowering his head down to her ear, he whispered, his eye closed, "Thank you, Arya. Thank you iet evarínya nuanen, thank you." She pulled away first, only to meet his lips with hers. Her lips moved slowly over his, savoring their moment. A rush of air slipped past him as she lightly bit his lower lip, leaving himself open for invasion. Deftly slipping past his barriers, her tongue penetrated his mouth, instantly finding hers in a slow dance. She took her time, always in control, exploring his intriguing crevices on the inside of his mouth. Smiling against his lips, she finally ended their passionate encounter with a seal of another kiss.

After a relatively silent meal, the pair situated themselves in bed, quickly falling asleep with the problems of the next day temporarily forgotten.

THUD.

Arya woke with a start. Preparations for the battle were beginning. Sparing a quick glance towards the balcony, she could see the effects of the sun.

THUD.

THUD.

She watched as Eragon opened his eyes slowly. Knowing he was awake the instant the signal had been made, she could tell he was simply unnecessarily prolonging the inevitable. Arya met his guarded eyes. Of all the expressions he wore, she hated this the most. She hated when his eyes turned blank, providing none of the warmth and comfort. She hated when the beautiful soul inside of him paraded as an emotionless warrior. Yet, she could not help but admire him for it. Her heart beat faster as he continued to look at her.

THUD.

Even his hardened appearance held far too much appeal to her. His gaze still in place, he tentatively reached a hand out to her. After determining it was the best course of action, he laid his warm skin against her cheek. She turned towards his hand, gently pressing her lips against his rougher skin. Arya smiled as his eyes softened ever so slightly.

THUD.

THUD.

THUD.

The banging brought the Rider to his senses. He pulled himself out of bed, reluctantly moving his hand away from her. Sending a request to some of the elves to equip Saphira's armor, he donned his own. Attaching Brisingr to his side, he watched as his princess put on the last of her stiff leather armor and weaponry before walking towards the dragon hold.

War always came too fast. Even when they had a month to prepare, Eragon felt the Battle of the Sea crept up on them, taking them by surprise like an unknown shadow in front of him when he was elsewhere distracted. Saphira was well in her battle armor when Eragon had arrived. Checking over once more that nothing was out of place, he silently mounted the great dragon. He glanced as Arya strode up and heaved herself up behind him. The Rider had a strange feeling something would go wrong, something was off, something unpredictable. Worse than his strange feeling, Eragon had a sinking notion that he would lose someone today, someone close to him.

Arya laid a hand on his back, wishing for once that his armor could have been less of a barrier between them. Able to feel his strength underneath his armor, Arya had always felt safe with him. However, returning the same courtesy was a tad difficult when the armor he had on was designed to keep him from feeling huge blows to his torso, never mind a hand on his back.

Eragon turned his head. His voice filled with emotion, with a desperation Arya could not gauge the depth, he declared, "I feel it, Arya, and I do feel safe with you by my side." Taking her hand in his, he pressed his lips against the soft skin. He closed his eyes as he remained turned, savoring the feel of her hand against his skin.

Arya knew he felt her elation when he told her he felt safe with her. To other women, it may not have been important that their other would feel safe in their presence, safe that their other could protect them. But to her, being equals as warriors was just as significant. His confession that he truly felt safe with her by his side, that he trusted her with his life meant more to her than a thousand of the most beautiful gems others could have given her.

She leaned forward, removing her hand from his grasp. She pushed herself against his backside, and ran her hands down his torso before settling them tight and low across his waist. Arya laid her chin over his shoulder, turning her head slightly to kiss the back of his ear and neck. As they neared the final preparations, Arya moved her lips away from him, yet kept her arms around him.

Dismounting Saphira, Eragon thanked the elves for armoring Saphira so quickly. Nasuada informed him that the spellcasters had already made their way across the plains and were about the infiltrate the army. Eragon glanced at the sky, the sun had risen. The battle had begun.

The Rider heard the ominous thumping of the oncoming soldiers. Feeling the ground shake under his feet, he looked over the plains, now stained with dark armor of the Empire.

Arya's voice shook him out of his trance. "Eragon, I must go. The others are waiting for me."

Her hand grasped his gently, giving it a small squeeze in reassurance. She wanted to kiss him, to show him how much she dreaded not being by his side in the battle. He seemed to understand her desire. Eragon took her hand and walked towards a darkened corner. The ground shook harder as the soldiers grew closer. His elven senses picked up the shouts of alarm from the first dead magician of the Empire. But that was for another time. As of now, his time was hers. Pushing her muscular body against the wall, safely hidden from other's view, he locked her in place with his own larger frame. No smile on his face, his eyes filled with a love so intense he doubted he could contain it any longer, he captured her gaze with his own, then lowered his attention to her lips.

Eragon swiftly entered her mouth, the path memorized the first time he had ever kissed her. He crushed his lips against hers, never brutal, never painful, never forceful, just a silent plea that she stay by his side, a last resort when nothing else could have worked. He kissed her as much as an answer to her wish as to his own need for her. And just as quickly as a gale of wind flew through the forests, his spirit had lifted itself.

He stopped his assault on her senses, aware that if he continued, neither would be in a position to fight a battle. Slowly pulling away, he let his lips move over hers one last time before gazing back into her eyes…an expression filled with only the purest of unconditional love.

His voice a mere whisper, a mere imperfect impression of the strength it contained, he pleaded, "Iet Drottningu, stay safe, wiol eka, wiol iet ilian (for me, for my happiness), so that my world can continue to exist."

Arya stopped a tear from falling. She doubted any other man could have admitted that their love had enough power over them as it did for her mate. She doubted even more that any man would have admitted what he had. However, her thoughts were not on the power she held over him, but rather on how much his life truly meant to her. Bringing her hands up to cup his warm face, she framed it still. Her back still against the wall, a sign of his often uncontainable desire, she pulled his face closer, eliminating any distance between them. And once again, her lips found his a dance the best of her kind could not hope to match.

"Nen ono weohnata, skölir fra súndavar, skölir abr thringa (As you will, my shield from shadows, my shield of rain)."

_Little ones, we must be off, they are nearing the fortress. _

Eragon sent his agreement before pressing his lips one last time against hers. Together, they walked from the shadows of the small alley and made their presence public. Arya spoke briefly with the other elves as Eragon mounted Saphira and sent instructions to the dwarves. He captured her gaze once more as she turned to leave for her post. And finally, he spoke the unspoken words.

_I love you. _

He sent the waves of love and adoration kept deep within his heart towards her, so she knew the extent of his feelings. A mental acknowledgement and she had reciprocated his actions. Eragon turned his eyes away, suddenly vulnerable in her scrutiny, and Saphira took to the skies. She felt his shame at leaving her side, his discomfort.

They rose together, Dragon and Rider, high in the skies, blocked by the shadow of the sun to their enemies. They seemed to disappear, masked by the rising sun. As they reached the peak being unseen, Saphira hurtled towards the ground creating the illusion that they were in fact invisible to those directly underneath.

_Blodhgarm?_ Eragon reached out towards the elf in charge of the initial insurgence.

_Shurtugal. I am here._

_How far have the spellcasters gotten? _

_The last of us is past the third block of armies. The formation of the soldiers is in companies of one hundred men, and seven hundred of them in total. There is a square, twenty five by twenty five companies, and then the last ones are in the back on horses. We have gotten through the first three layers, we are no where near done. _

_You have done very well Blodhgarm, do not discount your progress. Saphira and I shall attack from the skies, centering on the front of our armies. How is the commotion? _

_They know something is amiss, they have seen their magicians fall, but they cannot find its source. We are staying away from the Shade, although it seems he has something else on his mind. _

_Have you lost anyone? _

_No, Shurtugal, we are all safe and accounted for. _

_Good, tell me when you have finished, then stay invisible and go back to the fortress to be on the lookout for the second Shade. The soldiers and I will take care of the fighting outside. We need to protect the inside of our stronghold. _

_Very well, Eragon Shurtugal, may the stars watch over you. _

_And may they watch over you as well. _

_Eragon, we are nearing the soldiers. _

_Let them burn Saphira. _

The great huntress let a deafening roar escape her throat. She watched in macabre amusement as the insignificant soldiers scampered beneath her, their eyes filled with fear. Flying on a diagonal, she lit the soldiers across five companies ablaze. Saphira was getting stronger. Before, perhaps only across two hundred men, not across five hundred men.

Eragon watched as Saphira continued to assault the first seventy five companies with fire. His wards had successfully prevented any arrow from harming her. The men began to break formation, but that was the least of his concerns. As of right now, he was not playing a part in the demolishment of the soldiers, that concerned him.

He unsheathed his sword, letting the blue flames coat the edge. Concentrating on the magic within him, he whispered, "Kveykva (Lightning)" Immediately his sword emitted the blue electric energy he desired. Fire was far too unstable at this point, he needed precision and a weapon he could use repeatedly over distance. Fueling the blue lightning with his own Grey Folk powers, Eragon directed the energy to a soldier surrounded closely by his peers. The blast hit him square on his chest, sending him into fragments of what he once was. The others around him died instantly with the force of the explosion or were thrown into a particular sharp part of the men next to them.

The Rider found his weapon of choice for the day. Honestly, he had not thought of using lightning as a weapon, but once he was forced to find a quick way to keep harm from befalling Arya during the recent battle, lightning proved to be the best option.

Eragon targeted another group. He pushed more energy into the crackling electricity, allowing it to extend past the reaches of his arm and blast another group to pieces.

_Eragon! It is no use! No matter how many times I reduce men to ashes, more come in their place. We need to use the catapults, the magicians need to be dead in a matter of minutes. _

_Saphira, how long can you sustain a fire? _

_Do not discount my abilities. I can keep going for a while, but we have not the time, they are almost in range and the elves are not done yet. _

_Let me check with Blodhgarm. _

Reaching his mind into the vast consciences of the enemies before him, he looked for the one less foreign to him.

_Blodhgarm, how is your progress? _

_Shurtugal, we have almost finished, but we are exhausted keeping the spell up. _

_How many magicians are left? _

_Nearly forty five. _

_Very well, retreat now, the magicians left will not play a major part anymore, but we cannot have fifty tired elves, especially with the prowess in battle as you. Come back now, find your tent and rest for some time. The battle will easily take hours, get some rest. _

_As you wish Shurtugal, what of the Shade, I must be by my post._

_Blodhgarm, you may do as you wish, I do not presume to have any authority over you, however, I am concerned of your welfare. Fighting a Shade of any power will require power and assertiveness that I believe you have exhausted in this daunting task. _

_I understand Shurtugal, I shall find another capable warrior to take my place. _

The Rider sent his agreement through their link. The elves pulled out, mere breezes under the morning sun. They were unnoticed. For all purposes, the covert missions were successful. Eragon turned his attention back to the fighting, he could briefly see the Shade from where he was flying. For some reason, he was left alone, and the Shade made no notion to attack or engage him.

_Saphira, the Shade has not done anything to me. Not even used magic. _

He felt his legs shake underneath Saphira's muscular back as she released another flaming inferno on the men. Her Rider responded with redirecting his lightning to create another blast.

_Perhaps it knows it does not have a change with you at your full power. _

_I do not believe the Shade will be that thought out. From what I know of its thoughts, at least from Durza, Varaug, and Moratar, their minds are highly unstable, only controllable by one who knows the true name of each and every spirit they have consumed. If it had orders to attack me, it would have done so long ago. _

_Plausible, yes, in that case, what do you think it is after? _

_Perhaps its mission is to simply lead the armies, the other Shade, however, is the one I worry about. I made myself quite apparent, and still it did not show itself, it must not be in orders to kill me. _

_Then who? _

_That is what scares me. It would make sense that the Shade would attack one of the leaders, lower morale, especially Queen Islanzadi. _

_However?_

_However, why two Shades? Galbatorix knew that the Queen would be fighting on the ground with her soldiers, therefore, a Shade was already in place. The second Shade was not sent to kill a political leader, I believe it to be some personal vengeance. _

_How would he know little one? _

_Together, Saphira, together you and I ravaged Gilead, killing everything and all for one – Arya. Anyone with half a mind would know that she meant something to me, and he knows it now. I have put her in danger, we need to tell her. _

_What will she do differently?_

_I do not know, but she needs to be aware. _

He reached towards the familiar mind of his mate. Sweeping through the cracks of her barriers he knew so well, he made his presence known.

_Arya? I fear the Shade may be targeting you, after Gilead. _

Silence greeted him, as if she was contemplating the thought.

_It is a possibility, do not worry over it. I shall keep my eyes open for its presence. _

_Be careful, I shall come as soon as it does. _

_I know. _

With that she pulled from his mind and honed in on the various presences within the fortress. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Fears of the children, anxiety of women greeted her first, the strongest emotions there were. Others' minds were blocked to her, nothing unusual as there was an abundance of elves. Most were unfamiliar, others were known. But none felt evil to her. Practicing a meditative technique, she opened her mind to the animals, tracking the feel of evil as it passed through the forests and into the minds and souls of the innocent animals. She saw as the armies walked through the lands, wrecking havoc on the wildlife. She followed, until she saw a group break off. Twelve strong, all darkly dressed as if they could disappear even from the sun.

They took twelve horses, and even they seemed to resent their masters. She watched as the animals hid in fear of the man in front, one had the misfortune of looking at it. The night grew darker, and Arya had a clearer view of the leader. Undoubtedly a Shade.

He was tall, taller than humanely possible. He towered over his charges on a horse, and dwarfed them as he stood. Easily close to the height of a Kull, but lean like an elf. He held a certain grotesque fluidity, one that oozed power, but little compassion. He felt evil, he felt unnatural.

He looked into the eyes of the animal, and Arya saw his face. While the other was crimson, he was blue. But he held none of the comfort of her mate. His blue eyes were light, and cold. It was the color of ice, unnaturally light blue, unnaturally cold. They were emotionless, nothing went through them, yet it spoke volumes of his character. He had short blue hair, unevenly cut, yet hard and sticky. It was spiked in various directions. But his most defining characteristic was the cut over the middle of his lips. It was self inflicted, an indicator of his own power and control. He knew only how to instill fear and reap the benefits.

_Elf, I see you and I come for you._ A voice resonated clearly in her head. She had not even noticed that someone slipped into her mind. And she knew who the voice belonged to, it was him, it was the Shade she had tracked in the minds of the animals, it was the Shade that now tracked her through the fortress. She braced herself for the confrontation. Contacting the other elves, she gave them her present location. Arya reached her mind to Eragon, her barriers back in place, no sign of anyone ever entering her thoughts. The Rider's mind was blocked, yet occupied with the battle.

_Eragon, it is I. You were right, the Shade is coming for me. He is not here yet, but he will be soon. The others are coming. _

_I am on my way._

_No, we have not the time. _

_Arya!_ His frustration was clear through the link.

_Little princess, do not worry about time. I shall stay here and keep on the onslaught, Eragon will come to you. _

She did not like it, but the choice was limited. A Shade more powerful than Moratar could kill twelve elven spellcasters to ashes. They needed Eragon, her Eragon. Arya was pulled out of her thoughts as the wall behind her broke into pieces. She was thrown across the hall into a small room. Her face bloodied and bruised from the impact, she stood up and faced her enemy. Ignoring the screams of her sore body, she raised her sword and prepared herself for a duel.

Eragon ran through the hordes of enemy soldiers before him. He wasted no time with their lives, cutting through the flying bodies with his sword, or stopping their heart with a well timed bolt of lightning. He was almost back at the castle. The soldiers were almost in range. The Rider sent the information back to his Dragon, who sent one last infernal blaze across the lands, and then pulled away. Saphira flew back into the skies as Eragon ran with the speed of the Grey Folk back towards the gates, hoping to find Arya in time.

Seeing his signal, the dwarves launched the first of the catapults. The boulders crushed the unfortunate soldiers, killing them instantly. The Empire broke formation, but it was still a battle to be reckoned with. Saphira had felled more than fifteen thousand men with her fire, and Eragon easily over one hundred, but they were still outnumbered fifty thousand to thirty thousand.

Watching the ways the boulders moves, Saphira flew high above the men of the Empire. Those in the back were not in danger of the flying rocks the dwarves sent. She quickly moved towards them and reengaged in her aerial cremation of the men of the Empire. If she tired from breathing fire, then her claws and mouth would fell many more enemies. Saphira let out another deadly inferno, her mind trailing back towards her Rider. He would be fine, he was stronger than all the walked Alagaesia, and she was proud to call him, her Rider.

Eragon located Arya in a matter of seconds, getting there however, with the vast tunnels and passageways was another story. His Grey Folk speed was severely hindered with maneuvering through the labyrinth of alleys inside the fortress. His thoughts drifted to Saphira, but he knew his concern was unnecessary. The great dragon would be fine, she was Saphira, the fiercest being to exist in these lands, no man could hope to fell her. He was undeniable proud to have been chosen as her Rider.

Arya looked into the eyes of the Shade, filled with hatred and malice beyond all else she had known. It was not possible to hate this much, was it?

"Elf." Arya cringed, even his voice seeped evil.

"I have a personal hatred towards you."

Arya remained silent, the Shade was biding its time, and she did not mind. The more time it took talking, the more time the others would have to help her slay the being. She was not so arrogant to think she could defeat this one on her own. When she said nothing, it continued.

"You killed my brother."

"I did not know Shades bothered with family."

"Then you know nothing!"

His voice shook with anger as he continued, "You know nothing of what it is like to be a Shade. I loved my brother, the man I was before I became this thing, loved his brother. And you killed him, after years of protecting him, you killed him."

"I do not know of who you speak."

"Varaug! You killed Varaug, that was my brother! And I am Vaarek! The Shade who will kill you is me, Vaarek!"

Whoever this man was, he was a powerful one. Not many could stand the spirits within them and still remember who they were. And this one still believed in family ties.

"But do not mistake me. I am here to kill you, but not out of revenge. It seems you and the young Rider are lovers, what would please the king more than to see the Rider's depression at your loss."

She knew it would come to this, but she did not care if the King knew. Arya refused to believe that her relationship with Eragon was anything but strengthening. She blinded herself, but she did not want to take off the blindfold. In her mind, his words meant nothing.

A wicked smile tainted his lips, and he struck without warning. The princess was nearly brought to her knees under the force of the blow. From where she found the strength to block Vaarek's blow and still keep her feet beneath her, she did not know. He kept the force on her, and she was forced to rest her weary muscles. Arya let the sword drop a little, giving her more room to move. She rolled underneath blade, dislodging herself and escaping the bone breaking force of the Shade.

Barely having time to recollect herself, she felt the air split as Vaarek brought down his sword once more. But this time she was more prepared. Steeling her body, tensing up every muscle in her strong abdomen, she met his blade with the force of a true elven princess. The sparks formed between the metal clashes hardly distracted her. Her new sword felt right in her hands. With it, she was far more powerful. No longer did she feel her blade bend at a stronger opponent's will, it was matched for her, glistening under light, strengthening her.

She met him, stroke for stroke, block for attack, parry for parry. Arya knew she was not the strongest of warriors, but she was the swiftest. Using her speed to dodge and attack was the best tactic she had, and it kept her in the on par with the skill of the Shade. However, she knew that her strength would eventually deplete, and that this Shade would undoubtedly try the same tactic as his brother, and attack her mind. She needed a distraction, something to take its focus away from her.

Eragon ran through the tunnels as at unparalleled speed. He was close, but coming from the other side of the city took its time, especially with the wayward walls. But he was close, even if he could not see her, he felt her presence become stronger and stronger. The other eleven spellcasters were engaged with the eleven magicians accompanied by the Shade, and therefore in no position to come to Arya's aid. Normally, the Empire's magicians would stand no chance against elves, but these magicians were assisted by the magic from several eldunari that the dark tyrant harvested and stored in gemstones.

He heard a scream from his right, it was undoubtedly Arya's. He ran faster.

The princess had held on as long as she could. However, the Shade was toying with her. Vaarek finally began to pick up his pace, outpacing her and attacking her mind. He was far too strong with his assault. Arya's concentration broke. The icy shard pierced her barriers, maximizing her pain. A hand raised, black magic off the end of his hand, forced her against a wall with her own sword pointed at her heart. He smirked that smirk of his, the one exemplifying his sadistic nature. Her own voice released a blood curtling scream as the epitome of evil, centimeter by centimeter, forced the sword through her body.

The only thing keeping him from losing all hope is her constant screaming, the constant reminder she was still alive. He put on a burst of speed and crashed through the door, a snarl and crazed look on his eyes. The Shade had barely enough time to respond before Eragon tackled him to the ground, forcing his hand away from the painful death he was about to instill on the elf. From the corner of his eye, he saw Arya sink to the ground, one hand on her chest, attempting to stop the bleeding, she was far too tired, and she was losing blood fast. The Rider kicked himself away from the Shade, placing the maximum distance between them, but never losing his guard. He inched himself back, his gaze always on the Shade, but his concentration elsewhere.

When Eragon was in reaching distance, he grasped her hand and poured a multitude of energy into her weary body. Since the sword had not pierced her bone completely, it required far less energy than normal. The flow of energy ceased when Arya was able to see clearly and stand up on her own.

Eragon watched as the Shade paced around him in a semicircle, disgust and hatred etched on its face.

"You, bastard Rider, are not supposed to be here." The Shade spat out the words, his tone far more caustic than it should have been. It was here for vengeance. Yet, there was something off.

The Rider's eyes narrowed, _what did he mean, I was not supposed to be here. _

"Your battle was meant to be out there, never here, why are you here?"

He had no choice now, Eragon needed to understand what the Shade meant. _How could he have known? _

Unlocking his Grey Folk powers, Eragon engaged the Shade in a duel. He could not afford to kill it, he needed the information. This would be a battle of wits and endurance. Both moving at a blurring speed, the Rider blocked, parried, and struck according to the rule book. They were evenly matched, neither gaining the upper hand. The Shade was tiring, but there was still a reserve of energy left in it.

Finally, as if in slow motion, Eragon had found his sign. The Shade nearly missed his strike to his neck, and the Rider nearly severed it completely off. It was getting tired, and now was the opportune time to move in. The sword of his opponent swung down with a tiring resolve. Raising Brisingr above his head, Eragon stopped the descending blade with a loud clang of metal. Sparks flew from the initial point of contact, creating a drizzle of fire to separate their piercing eyes boring into each other. With a blur of motion, Eragon slipped past the Shade's defenses, immobilizing the weapon behind his back. It was not the safest place for the blade to be, but the Rider forsook proper technique for speed. Somersaulting in the air, inches from the Shade, Eragon brought his legs up and met his opponent's jaw, throwing his back seven feet into a wall. Barely recovering from the physical strains of his endeavor, the Rider quickly found the conscious of the Shade and penetrated with his trademark blue flaming shard into its barriers.

Keeping his own barriers in check, he resumed their duel, leaving no recovery time. Vaarek jumped over the Rider's hurtling body. He spun around, keeping his sword up. His defenses were weakening, Eragon could feel it. The Shade's pale skin, a stark contrast the cold blue his eyes and hair exemplified, was beaded with sweat. It was only a matter of time till the shell of the man broke. The Rider brought his blade up, a small challenge. Redoubling his efforts to breaking the Shade's barriers, he simultaneously resumed the duel. He charged towards the tired Shade, but kept his footing nimble for added agility. He could see the triumph in the Shade's eyes as it brought its blade, thinking he had predicted Eragon's movements perfectly. At the last minute, Eragon switched directions, spinning in the air, and over the Shade's head. Unable to track his movements, the Shade looked bewildered as it tried to regain orientation. But it was far too late for him.

Eragon tore the sword out of the Shade's hand, not paying attention as it buried itself into a wall. The last barrier had broken, and the Rider entered uncontested into the Shade's mind. Eragon stood behind the Shade, his left hand holding its throat with an unbreakable grip of steel so tight it could not even choke against the force. His right hand held Brisingr firmly, pressing against his opponent's heart. Satisfied the Shade was successfully immobilized, the Rider shifted his attention to the memories.

_Jared was running next to me. Jared, my brother…we were fleeing our father…he did something, we could not know, but he was angry…and he wanted revenge. _

_Mother, mother dead…dead from what, we do not know. All I have is Jared, and all he had is me. _

_Me…I am Jaden. _

The memories flew back to a more recent time. There were cauldrons everywhere, and strange crystals brimming with energy. The boys stood opposite each other, chanting some words in the Ancient Language, calling to the spirits for help in slaying their abusive father.

_The door came crashing down, an obscenely large figure blocking the doorway. I screamed as the spirits took control of my senses. _

_Always whispering, kill him, kill him, murderer, killer, revenge, and so I listened, and they stopped, until they started again. _

The memories shifted back to a time fairly recently.

"_Vaarek, I have some dismal news." I looked towards the king. He alone had given me sanity from these voices, controlling each and every one, giving them to my control. No longer did the voices haunt me. I owed him more than I can imagine. _

"_What is it, my King?"_

"_Your brother is dead." I froze, this could not be. The only constant in my life, my brother, the one I shared my happiness, my talent, my life with, was gone. Anger boiled in me, anger as I have never felt before. It would die, the damned creature would die a painful death, and it will see only my face with it dies. _

"_Who did it?" I spat out. _

"_An elven woman, black hair, the elven ambassador to be exact. Arya, I believe her name is, from the dead Murtagh's memories." _

"_How can you be sure?" _

"_I have my ways. I have an insider, he has given information on everything that is to occur. I realize you want your revenge, and I am not one to stop you. Kill her, rape her, do whatever you wish, I shall stop you. But I only ask that you either leave her dead or capture her. You see, my informer had given most interesting news that the elf and the rogue Rider are romantically involved. I want to deal a personal blow after his obvious lack of respect towards me. Did he not think I would not find out of his adventures in my capital? And the most angering of all, the loss at the sea. His persistence, his insolence, his bloody bastard of a heart will hurt, one way or another." _

"_I shall personally see to this." _

The scene changed once more, the time was last night, right before they had detached from the main group.

"_Vaarek. It is good to see you." _

_The King's inspirational voice rang in my mirror. I nodded my head once, returning the gesture. _

"_I have news for you. My insider has told me of their battle plans. It seems that the Rider will be attacking from the skies, his concentration on the weaker of the two that I have sent. You, my pride, on the other hand, shall follow the woman. She is stationed on the edge of the city, the side of the Spine. He will not be there, or at least not there in time. Good luck." _

_The screen went blank once more. _Eragon pulled out of the Shade's head, his anger seeping through his veins. Unable to contain his rage, he plunged the sword through its heart, feeling satisfied as it burst into the particles it was made of. His body weakened from the fight, he took a moment to regain his senses before locating his mate. She was standing against a wall, still weak from healing the extensive injury.

He wordlessly walked over to her, and drew her into his arms. Arya melted into his embrace, her arms pinned against his chest, she rested her head on the nook of his shoulder. Eragon felt her shake with weakness. Barely thinking of his actions, he poured another wave of energy, steadying her.

_Eragon! _

The Rider reached out to the voice in his head. Saphira was banging against his barriers, he had forgotten to reopen his link to her.

_Forgive me, what is it? _

_We need you on the ground to lead the warriors. They are nearly upon the city gates._

_How many are left? _

_I do not know, the catapults and I have definitely done the damage. There seems to be close to half remaining, but that is still a formidable number. _

_I shall be there shortly. _

Eragon pulled away from Arya and reached his mind to the other eleven elven watchmen. After confirming each had defeated their opponent, he turned towards Arya.

"Are you alright, iet Drottningu?"

She smiled a hint of a smile, "I am now. Thank you."

He ran his hands over her arms, assuring himself she was still there and fine.

"Arya, you are still weak."

"I can fight, it is only human soldiers and there will be many others fighting alongside me."

Blocking his protests, he simply nodded. Detaching his Belt of Beloth the Wise, he attached around her waist. "Keep it during the battle, it will help you. I do not need it now."

He closed his eyes, listening for the commotion outside the gates.

"We need to move quickly."

Arya nodded and swiftly made her way to ground soldiers, Eragon close behind. She knew his Grey Folk powers were weakened after the sheer physical exertion, but she was still grateful for the extra energy, and the energy in the belt he had given her. Arya had no desire to continue fighting, and frankly speaking, she most likely would have cited tiredness and gotten some sleep instead. But now, there was simply no other option than to fight beside her mate, protecting him from his thousands of enemies. They came upon the soldiers minutes later.

Time seemed to pass far faster when each and every second was not devoted to worrying about his mate. He walked towards the soldiers, and looked towards the skies. Saphira was still there. He saw her blue majestic body light more green into cerulean ashes. She was tiring from the use of her fire.

"We need to open the gates, move the soldiers outside, take the battle to them. We have the advantage, they are scattered and we cannot give them time to reform."

The Rider looked to the speaker, Vanir. His eyes were calm, but much more like a calm before the storm. Inside them, lied a resolve far more absolute than he had ever seen. He nodded, his elven friend was right. They had the advantage. Eragon signaled for the gates to be opened, and the warriors marched outside. The Urgals filed out first, led by Nar Garzvhog. Roran and his men followed the other humans to the next battle line. The elves flanked them, Queen Islanzadi's company on one side, and another lead by Commander Alinor. The fifty spellcasters were resting, they would join at some later time. The dwarves lined up behind the men. With a word from their respective commanders, the warriors of the Resistance moved forward, their steps synchronized, rhythmic in their decisiveness to hold their ground. Saphira lit another company of men on fire, their screams grew progressively louder. When the warriors were in fifty yards of each other, they charged on the fast approaching onslaught.

Eragon ran in front with the Urgals. Avoiding an outstretched spear, he spun around next to the metal stick and killed its owner. He could not find the Shade, but he knew it was weaker than the other. His mind was elsewhere as he nonchalantly disposed of more enemies. There was a traitor to think about, one that caused Arya to be the target of Galbatorix, because of him. Eragon let his mind wander as he thought of possibilities. His other task was rather mundane. From what he knew, close to twenty men had already shown effects of the poisoned tips, but due to Angela's quick and efficient distribution, most were back in the battle.

There was Trianna. She had cause. He distinctly remembered the look of primal fury on her face when she Nasuada had announced their relationship. She, along with most, believed Arya to be the flavor of the month, no serious ties, simply a method of release. Trianna was taken with him, and she had reason to hate Arya after they were mates, but that alone could not suffice. She was loyal to Nasuada, and was willing to help the Varden. Not to mention, she was never present during the war councils, but then again, in a world of magic, that did not mean much.

The elves were another possibility, but far too unlikely. Of all the people, Eragon trusted them. Loyal to a fault, they would rather end their lives than take one of a friend. The dwarves…there was one clan that did hate him, and tried to kill him, but the Rider knew that if a dwarf rode to the heart of the Empire, the Varden would hear of it.

"Eragon!"

The Rider whipped around to search the source of the voice. His eyes were immediately greeted by the sight of a green Rider's blade swiftly moving past him and between the eyes of his enemy. Following the length of the blade, he met his savior's gaze.

"Thank you, iet Drottningu."

Her face grim, she replied with a reprimand in her voice, "Do not be so consumed in your thoughts that you forget of the present. You are fighting a battle, your enemies are surrounding you. Pay attention to them before you take on your enemies that hide in the shadows."

A good bit of advice, one that particularly spoke to his case. Then again, why would it not, she knew everything that ran through his head anyway. With a nod and small smile, the Rider's face turned into an impenetrable mask once again. The only emotion emitted from him was pure determination to defeat his enemies.

He jumped past Arya, his sword meeting with a soldier. His eyes scorching the warrior, he muttered the words to release his sword. The warrior was thrown back in an eruption of flames, as Eragon stood with his double edged sword flaming in blazing cerulean. The Rider easily cut through the next of his enemies. It was nearly an hour of hacking through the ranks before the Empire's soldiers began to retreat a little. It was a battle of ground, and as far as the Varden were concerned, the Empire was losing it inch by inch.

Saphira was grounded, unable to use her fire extensively without fear of harming the Varden soldiers. She consented to land near Eragon, ripping the Empire's men to shreds. Using the energy stored in the belt, Arya kept herself coherent and just as deadly as ever. She loved wielding her ancestor's sword, perhaps a bit too much. Wiping the thoughts out of her mind, she concentrated on reducing the numbers as possible.

Vanir stayed close to his Queen and first in command of his army. Although his first duty was to kill, in his mind, his was to protect the Queen. Without her, the elves would be torn asunder, and once again, they might retreat into the forests when they were needed the most. That being said, he had become quite close to the elven queen of late. He cared for her as he cared for Eragon, a friend, one to protect.

The young elf turned his thoughts back towards the battle. He sliced through another of his enemies, before a dark figure moving across the battlefield caught his eye. Its moves were methodical, calculated, mission like. It moved with a purpose, a distinct purpose, a task to be carried out under the guise of a battle. And it was headed straight towards the Queen. His resolve renewed, Vanir swiftly moved through the horde of enemies, disposing of them on the way. His elven eyes captured the movements of the dark figure's hand. It moved to a black, metal scabbard removing, noiselessly, a long, silver blade from it. A burst of speed was Vanir's answer. He did not have the time to reach her at his current speed.

The figure brought the sword down, rapidly slicing the air as it sought the neck of the elven Queen. A fierce battle cry emitted from Vanir's throat. He sailed over his enemy, and landed in front of the figure. His sword already in the blocking position, he stopped it dead in its tracks. The crash of the two swords deafened the nearby warriors. Vanir felt more than saw Queen Islanzadi spin on her heels, and gasp in surprise as Vanir bent on one knee, his sword raised above his head, mere power of will keeping him from letting the sword descend across her back. Another primal yell from Vanir threw his enemy away from him. The elf raised himself, his eyes filled with a new determination, a threat to anyone who dared attack the Queen of elves.

The figure slowing raised itself up, more floating than actual movements. It removed its hood, revealing red, maniacal eyes.

"Bad choice elf. We are Kirask, we are powerful. Do not get in our way."

A Shade, and the second one of the day. Vanir wasted no time with words. He lured Kirask towards the center, spacious battlefield, one he was best at. Vanir spun to his left, avoiding the slash. He turned to his right, throwing his sword towards the Shade's heart. But it avoided his blade by a simple sidestep. The Shade moved to his right once again, slashing. Vanir ducked and rolled to his left, again in front of his Queen.

He felt a solid arm pull him up, and soon he was staring into the emerald eyes of his elven Queen.

"Vanir-finarel, I trust you, I believe in you, and that is exactly why I will not let you fight this creature alone. You are vital as my commander."

The Queen raised her sword and stalked away from him, her stare concentrated entirely on the Shade. Again, Vanir made the first move. But he was followed closely by the Queen. He struck the Shade's right as the Queen struck above him hitting it square in the chest. The only act preventing her sword from piercing his heart was Kirask's fast reflexes. Queen Islanzadi struck again, aiming for the head. Vanir attacked its back, forcing the Shade to defend both his fronts.

Fighting blow after blow, alternating attackers kept both elven warriors in low physical exertion, and kept their opponent from gaining a real advantage or attacking. Seeing the opening, the Queen moved in closer, dancing around the whirling body of the Shade. As she moved to plunge her sword straight into the beast's heart, he spun around once again, his face writhing in anger. It was too late, she was already in a position of attack, leaving herself utterly vulnerable to attack, and her opponent was no longer in his position of vulnerability. Knowing he had defeated her, he smirked at her and moved his sword through her. She braced herself for the impact, but it had never come. She looked around, and in front of her was her second in command, the silver sword of the Shade clear through his body. He was shaking with pain, it had gone straight through his abdomen.

"Kill it, it cannot move." She heard the words force themselves out of Vanir's mouth. She gasped as she realized he had held the hand of the Shade clasped around the sword and the metal blade locked in his body. Not wasting another second, determined to let his sacrifice become something to be remembered for, she ran her own sword through the Shade's heart. A cry of hatred escaped Kirask, but the Queen could not be less concerned. She reached her mind to her trusted elven steed. Seeing the extent of the wound, she had decided it was best to keep the sword in to prevent further loss of blood.

The horse she called arrived a few moments later. Shouting orders to her warriors, she mounted the horse, pulling Vanir's semi-unconscious body up on the horse with her. She rode the horse quickly across the battlefield, straight to the healer's tent. The Queen dismounted quickly, her armor blood stained with her falling comrade. He buckled underneath his own weight, but before he could hit the ground, the Queen swept up underneath him, easily lifting him. She brought him to a bed in the healer's tent and watched as the elves removed the armor and began to assess the wound and his condition.

One elf finally came up to her. "He will be fine Islanzadi Drottning. He has lost much blood, but the sword only nicked a few vital organs. We have replenished his energy, but to fully heal from the blood loss, he will have to rest for a few days."

"Very well, thank you. When he awakes, be sure to tell him that I thank him."

If the elf felt any surprise at his Queen thanking her second – in – command of one company of soldiers, he did not show it. Sometimes, the guarded masks of the elves were much appreciated. However, this was not sometime, she resented her people's lack of emotion. It was to lead a race that prided itself on keeping their feelings to themselves. Perhaps, if they had made their opinion known, this war would have been far over.

Islanzadi mounted her trusted white steed. Mentally giving her the command to ride, she drew her sword as she reentered the battle. The Queen took a moment to realize her feat, she was a Shadeslayer, with little credit to herself, but nevertheless, a Shadeslayer. Her body ached with her battle against the Shade, however, no warrior would get respite in the middle of a battle. She drew energy from her emerald pendant necklace. The Queen ran her hands across the pendant, it was given to her by Evander, her mate. She knew she could never love another, even if he was killed. Islanzadi was glad, glad that no one watched her leave on her horse into the dangers of battle praying she returned safely, just as she had done everyday when Evandar had left her to fight against the dark king.

Her face set in her ruthless mask, the Queen found her soldiers again, slashing through more of the king's soldiers. The Shades were dead, or so she assumed. Eragon, her daughter, and the other elves had rejoined the battle, meaning the other threat was removed. Now, it was only a matter of killing the ground soldiers. And with the superior fighting skills of the elves and their obvious growth in number, defeating the soldiers was reduced to simply a task.

Roran stayed close to his men. He wanted nothing more than to pound his hammer into the ranks, felling many men, but his own men needed his guidance.

"Captain!" Roran whipped around to see the source of the voice.

"What is Carn?"

The elder man was quieter than most. Roran knew that he would not speak needlessly.

"There is a magician close by. I felt him against my barriers."

"Can you defeat him?"

"I doubt it, I can hold him off for a period of time by attacking his mind, but I cannot keep fighting."

Roran stepped in front and clobbered his hammer over an Empire man's head.

"Do you know where he is?"

"No, but I will know if I see him."

"Good, keep an eye out for him, we cannot risk losses."

Carn nodded and drew his sword. He blocked and parried his way in the surroundings of his comrades, looking for the magician.

Könungr abr Brisingr blazed dangerously, scorching everything in its path. With the various spins and twists Eragon performed in battle, the sword looked more like a blue disc of fire, consuming anything arrogant enough to confront it. Truly, the sword had a mind of its own.

_Did you doubt that master? _

_No, my sword speaks to me, I cannot doubt that. However, I am still confused by this idea. _

_It is simple, giving something that was no previously there. When indirectly forged me, I was alive, I was a part of you, a part of you that separated itself and was put into me. It took on your characteristics. The sword matches the wielder. Rhu__nön has this same connection with each and every blade, the rudimentary connection, however, because she gave her weapons away, they served little intimate connection to their new wielders. _

_I do understand what you are saying. But how is it that I am able to speak with you. _

_The powers of the Grey Folk. Saphira, a major part of you, has also changed. She has become far more powerful, swifter, stronger. And so have I. Powerful enough to at least communicate with you and change my form to a better styled sword. _

_Do you have a face?_

_I am you, I am your sword, just as a rabbit has its body, my body is the sword, as is my face. _

_Then thank you. _

_Do not thank me. I was made for a purpose, I am fulfilling that now. _

Eragon circled his sword above his head, and let it come down behind him, successfully blocking two of his enemies. The sword spun around his hand, creating that disc of blue flames once again. Before the soldiers could make sense of what they were seeing, the Rider had already sliced off their heads and moved to a different group of enemies. Soon though, he found himself trapped in a circle of soldiers. He could tell they were not ordinary, not only did they feel no pain, he could sense wards around them, protecting them from magic.

Crouching into a position for attack, Eragon narrowed his eyes waiting for the first attack. He felt movement to his right. He spun, slashing his sword across his body, successfully removing the first threat. The others sprung into action. Two attacking his flanks. He bent backwards, bending his knees, slipping underneath the narrow blades. When he rose from the ground, he stood behind the soldiers. Letting them go for the moment, Eragon stepped forward and rid two other soldiers from their cursed existence. He jumped up, using one of his enemies as leverage, and flew towards the two soldiers he had let go only moments before. He brought his sword down their backs, tearing past their armor and straight through their bodies. The wards meant little against a Rider's sword. And within minutes, Eragon disposed of the men who surrounded him. The sun rose to its peak. Noon was upon the battle, and the soldiers were getting weary.

_Shurtugal! We are coming. _

The furry elf's voice rang through his head. He seemed eager to rejoin the battle.

_Are you sure you are able to fight? It is quite exhausting in the peak of heat. _

_I am fine, as we all are. We are well rested. _

_Very well, I am in the center of battlefield, a few dozen yards from Saphira. Queen Islanzadi is on the right side of the battlefield, Commander Alinor is on the left. Split up and help them. Send only a dozen through the middle to join the battle. _

_As you wish Shurtugal. May the stars watch over you. _

_And they over you as well. _

He broke the contact with Blodhgarm. He killed another of his enemies and looked to the skies for a moment's break. _Even the stars are not watching this battle. _The fight dragged on for several more hours. How he wished for a rain? The numbers of their enemies were dwindling, but still formidable. From Saphira's eyes, he estimated close to fifteen thousand men remained. As far as their numbers went, he estimated close to twenty seven thousand men remained. No doubt because of the superior strength and endurance of the elves, Urgals, and dwarves. An army with soldiers like these could easily defeat a force of fifteen thousand.

Hours dragged on, and Arya's muscles burned as she raised her sword once again to bring her enemy down. Throughout the battle, she barely received any wounds. But her failing endurance caused her to receive many more cuts over her body in the last hour or so. She was getting careless, but she had no choice. Fighting alone was tiresome. She stayed close to Saphira, but not close enough to feel safe with leaving her back open.

Arya felt a blade cut her upper arm. She spun around, her blood oozing freely from her arm. Finding the source, she disposed of it. Her enemies reduced for a moment, she clutched her arm, letting herself feel the pain and burn of it. No doubt the blade was poisoned. She had to find the antidote.

Eragon saw as the man slashed Arya across her arm. He roared in anger, but stayed rooted to his ground. He could not get to her and he had no doubt she could take care of herself. He turned to her once again, only this time seeing her hit the ground clutching her arm. It was not the only place she had received a gash…poison, she was getting poisoned. Bringing the enemies close to him down with a spell breaking their necks, Eragon looked for a body of a Varden warrior. Finding it quickly, he felt for the vial with the antidote. Recognizing his own work immediately, he ran over to Arya.

As if preplanned, Arya hit the ground, she could only feel pain. Was this what the other soldiers had gone through? She shook with pain, preventing herself from crying out. Why did she not take some when she had the chance? Now she was nearly immobilized with the pain coursing her veins. She felt a hand gruffly lift her up. She knew who it was, she could recognize his scent anywhere. Eragon's hands felt strong around her, safe. She would love to die in his arms.

"Do not think like that. You are not going anywhere." No matter how hard she tried, she could not find the strength to answer. The sounds of breaking glass were barely discernible with her body raging.

Eragon's arm held her in place. He asked Saphira to come and watch over them for a moment. His beautiful Sapphire was more than happy to scorch their enemies away as he cared for Arya. He tilted her head back and let the antidote run down her throat. It would take awhile before the antidote would work. All he could do now was protect her while she recovered. He pulled more energy from his Belt of Beloth the Wise and energized her body. She rewarded him with an acknowledgement, but nothing more than her tightening around his arm.

Knowing he could not ensure Arya's safety while fighting with a sword, he resorted to his previous tactic of using lightning and felling his enemies with an electric shock. He looked at her once again when he had a breather, and reprimanded himself. Eragon should have been watching, he should have been by her side.

Swinging his famous hammer once again, Roran knocked down more of his opponents. Carn was closeby, looking for the magician, but so far there was no sign. _Was he dead?_ Roran could not take the chance, he motioned for his men to stick together and press forward once more. There were still many enemies, and from the looks of things, they were not ordered to stop until the last man was dead.

Carn watched his surroundings carefully, the magician was still at large, and he was biding his time. He needed to find him first. Carn felt that familiar presence brush against his mind, but quickly move away as it realized his barriers were quite formidable. _Dammit, missed it again._ It was a mistake never to be repeated, the next time Carn would trace the presence back to its owner, and hopefully discover the magician of the shadows. He rubbed his forehead free of the sweat that had accumulated over his brow. The worst of the heat was over, but the hardest stretch of the battle still remained.

Queen Islanzadi sent a spell flying towards a magician of the Empire. It his him square in the chest, guaranteeing his demise. _Pathetic human spellcasters. _Their power was a joke compared to hers, compared to any elf's. Perhaps, the only human she believed to have a power close to an elf's was Eragon before his transformation. But then again, if he was truly Brom's son, then even he was part elven, as Brom had been. The fight was getting tedious. It was simply the motions of killing, of fighting, no more heart was in the battle. The king had grown cocky in his strength. He did not realized that one elf fighting for honor or justice was a hundred times the warrior of a human malformed to believe he could not feel pain.

The elves always had the least casualties, but the most weary. The Urgals always lost the most men, but that was no surprise. They went into battle with little skill, only brute strength. The humans were always the most injured, and the dwarves, they were simply the most protected of all the races. Their obvious height disadvantage, at no disrespect to their strength, proved to be fatal against these painless Empire soldiers.

Her thoughts flitted to her daughter, resting on her temporarily. She wished her daughter was unharmed in this battle. Her mate would never let anything atrocious happen to her, of that the Queen was sure. However, as her daughter wanted, and how she despised, Eragon had an uncanny ability to protect Arya's independence and respect as a warrior. For some odd reason, Eragon still believed himself and Arya to be equals as warriors, when he knew, more than anyone exactly how powerful he was. Without the dark ways of the king, Eragon was easily the most powerful to walk Alagaesia, more so than even Brom, Anurin, or Vrael. To think that Arya, let alone any elf, even the eldest of elves, were on par with the Rider was simply a matter to laugh about.

There is was, the brush again. The magician was getting careless as he realized Carn was not retaliating to his intrusion. But this time, Carn was ready. Grabbing on the presence, he felt its panic. Carn felt it race away from his mind, but he knew, and he followed. When it had no further place to run, Carn had finally cornered the man. He opened his eyes, looking for any signs of mental anguish as he tried to pierce the barriers of the magician. Nowhere on his left, nor behind him. Carn turned his gaze to his right side, there he was. A man of thirty, his face writhing in pain, his stance stiff and forced. He called out to Roran, keeping his mental attack in place and motioned to the man. Carn saw his captain race through the battlefield, knocking more of his enemies dead. Roran took one swing and buried the man into the ground. Carn felt the mind go blank, his attacks suddenly meeting with no resistance. The magician was dead.

Arya rose from her slumber, her mind and body surprisingly refreshed. Watching the battle scene around her, she realized she was still in the heat of the battle. Alarm rose through her, she grabbed her sword and tried to block an attack from her left. As she raised the blade over her spread out body, attempting to block the descending sword, a blue streak of lightning hit her enemy straight in his eyes. _Eragon._ Her gaze spun to the man behind her. He was crouched low, looking for any potential enemies while he stood guard over her unconscious body. Arya felt the ground rumble underneath Saphira's weight as the dragon sent three men into the horde of men with a simple flick of her tail. She drew some more energy from the gems in the belt, steadying herself as she rose from the ground.

The princess picked up her green Rider's blade and moved into the crowd, announcing her return. Leading three men quickly to their demise, Arya spun around and brought a few more warriors to their death with a quick spell. Her mate nodded to her, a smile on his face. When she had awoken, Arya felt his relief course through her. In a middle of a battle, her health intact was something for him to have been smiling about.

Destroying his nearby enemies gave Eragon the time to check Arya's condition. He jumped over to her and stood in front of her, an expression of worry over his face.

"Are you alright now?"

Arya flexed her sword in her hand, playing with her flexibility. "Yes, I believe I am. Thank you."

The Rider inclined his head to his mate. There would be time to discuss details, but not now. The worst part of war is that any breather is only moments long. And the entire time of that rest period was spent in an adrenaline rush, baiting, waiting, calculating the next move. Such was the case here.

Eragon ripped his next opponents across their chests, ensuring a stopped heart. He felt whole again, Saphira behind him, creating havoc on those who dared threaten her, and Arya by his side, protecting him as he protected her. Eragon knew he was the lucky one. It was not a lack of blows that landed on him that prevented his poison, but the impenetrable nature of his armor. But Arya's stiff leather compromised durability for flexibility, a key point of her fighting nature. Had these been normal soldiers, Arya would have never even felt a blow come near her, but these were those who could not feel pain, and their malevolent nature forced Arya to spend more time with each man, leaving her open to other attacks.

He burned through the next of his opponents, letting the fire from his sword be carried by the wind. Most of the Empire's men avoided him, it was if they realized they had no real chance against his skill. Soon enough, the numbers of their opponents dwindled. The Varden had the minimum casualties. The ability of their warriors to fight with their mind intact prevented any recklessness on their part. The Empire's soldiers, on the other hand, tripped over and trampled each other in their killing frenzy after their leader, the Shade had been killed.

The battle of Feinster had lasted longer than expected. It was well into the night when the last remained of the Empire soldiers had been routed. Nasuada had sent some scounting parties after the abandoners of the Empire, instructing them to take prisoners if possible, but to kill if not. Those eleven magicians that accompanied Vaarek were eventually disposed of. Their energy obtained from the eldunari ran out quickly with their liberal use of it. The dark tyrant would have never actually given an eldunari to these low cast magicians, especially since Murtagh had died with the power of many eldunari with him. Eragon's thoughts went to his brother. He no longer considered him a half brother, they were tied by blood, family by any means. If could call his cousin a brother, Roran, with whom he shared neither a mother or a father, then he would call Murtagh his brother, with whom he stared his mother, and to each no father. For Murtagh, Morzan was no father, and for Eragon, his father never existed until he discovered he was dead sometime later.

The Rider made his way over to the medical tents. Exhausted as he was, the Varden needed to make sure their soldiers were always in fighting form. Moving through bed by bed was tedious, but Eragon would take going through this task over the post war brief that Arya was currently sitting in. Her mother requested her presence there as a leader of the small elven force that stood guard over the entrances.

"Shadeslayer." Eragon turned to look for the owner of the voice. A small boy, no older than thirteen years.

"What is it?"

"I have a message from the elven medical tents. They have requested that you come there as soon as you have finished with the men in here. Someone in there requests you."

Eragon wondered who it could have been, but he nonetheless thanked the boy and finished with his work.

_Eragon? Where are you now?_

Arya had grown accustomed to residing in his mind, there for the comfort, but unknown unless a strong emotion emitted from the link. It was, however, extremely useful to her to not have to reach out and search for him. Although, in all honesty, she could have done so in a matter of seconds as his presence, his flute music was that familiar to her.

He replied swiftly, but never uncaringly. It was what separated him from the others. He never answered her brusquely, never coldly. A simple question should have received a monotone answer, but he had never put that particular option into practice. His voice, even when speaking of the most unrelated things, emphasized his love for her. And after a gruesome battle, it was the one anchor he could provide as they were separated by distance.

_I am heading toward the elven medical tents. Saphira is with me. I have finished with the humans, but apparently one elf requested my presence. _

_It is mostly likely Vanir. _

_Vanir? _Alarm shot through him, if Vanir was severely injured…

_Do not fret, my mother had told the council of their battle with the Shade. Vanir took the sword meant for the my mother and held him in place while she stabbed it through the heart. Thankfully, my mother was able to get him to a medical tent swiftly before returning to battle. He is in no danger, but perhaps he wanted to speak with you about something. _

_Thank you Arya. It is good to know my friend is in no danger. _

_There is something else Eragon. _

_What? _

She paused in her thoughts, not sure whether to tell him the news.

_Spend time with Vanir, and I shall tell you later. _

_As you wish Arya. _

He wanted to pursue the topic, but something in Arya's voice held him back from asking again. She would have told him if he insisted, but he would rather have her support if the news was as dismal as her voice had been. Eragon nodded to the healers of the elves. They let him in without any questions asked. One elf pointed to a bed in the back. The elf was bandaged, and it was with no doubt Vanir.

He smiled at the barely conscious elf. His injuries were severe, even for an elf.

"Congratulations on a feat filled with bravery and honor." The Rider greeted him, ignoring the usual formalities.

Vanir let a small laugh out, but quickly stopped when he was sent into a fit of coughing. Eragon immediately filled a glass of water and handed it to his elf friend.

"Eragon, I did not slay it. I was only made the martyr."

"The Queen says otherwise. She believes in giving credit where credit is due, and you have defeated the Shade along with her side."

The elegant elf smiled briefly before his brow furrowed under the information.

"What troubles you? We have won the battle and you have destroyed a Shade. A task securing your place in history."

"How am I alive? The wound should have killed me."

"Ah, that is a story best told by someone else."

"Who?"

"Queen Islanzadi herself."

Vanir's inability to form an expressionless mask rendered his face filled with confusion.

"You still do not understand. Very well then, listen closely so you may act appropriately."

He nodded and looked at him with eyes of anticipation.

"When the Shade was finally destroyed, the Queen looked to your safety first. She called to her horse, or so I have been told, and rode you to the medical tent, where she waited until news of your stable condition before returning back to the battle."

"I have much to thank her for…I did not think I would live to see another day."

"There is nothing to thank for Vanir-finarel."

Eragon looked behind him, finding the source of the voice. He stepped aside so the regal Queen of elves was in the line of sight of his leader.

At her sight, Vanir tried in vain to make himself more presentable. He attempted to sit up and initiate the proper elven greeting, but he was soon forced back down by the Queen herself.

"Do not trouble yourself in your state. I am glad to see you are recovering as well as you are, after such a horrid injury. One I must thank you for taking. I knew it was meant for me, and yet you are here, in my stead."

"It was an honor to protect my Queen."

"Some honor is too insignificant compared to one's own life. Nevertheless, I am indebted to you. Vanir-finarel, I have come to grant you access to your own men, in the position of a Commander. You have shown prowess on the battlefield, unmatched by any elf. You have shown considerable intelligence in the strategic aspects of battle formation. And lastly, you have shown the strength of your heart and moral nature. On these terms, I have decided to promote you to the level of a Commander."

Vanir lay, grounded by the words he was hearing. The shock was clear on his face. Catching himself, he bowed his head and replied, "Thank you Islanzadi Drottning, your words warm me and your actions humble me."

Letting an uncharacteristic smile show on her face, the Queen approached the Commander and laid her hand on his shoulder, "My first order to you is, however, to ensure you are in full health before you begin leading your men."

The elf nodded and bowed in agreement of her request. Islanzadi gently squeezed Eragon's shoulder and left the tent. As the Rider turned to Vanir, a healer came.

"Shurtugal, he has exerted too much today. He needs his rest."

In a mock laughter, Vanir shrugged his shoulders as his friend joined in his laughter. Eragon stood up and turned to leave. As he walked towards the tent flap, he turned one last time to see his friend, but he was already fast asleep. Exiting the calming medical tent of the elves brought Eragon's awareness of the current situation to light. He had to find Arya, and discover what she needed to tell him.

_Arya, where are you? _

_Behind you._

Eragon turned to look in the direction she specified. If she cared about what the other elves thought of her, she did not show it. Nearly crashing into his arms, Arya pressed her body tight against him, locking them together.

"I have waited far too long to feel the strength of your arms around me." A small confession from her meant the world to him. He tightened his grip around her, understanding that either of them could have died at any moment, with any little mistake.

_Little ones, we have much to discuss. _

Saphira's wings wrapped around them, grateful as well that her Rider and his mate were safe. Whether it was from Eragon's deep connection for Arya, or the bond that had formed with fifteen years of being in her protection, Saphira felt a love as boundless for Arya as she felt for Eragon.

_What is it that you wanted to tell me? _

Arya paused for a moment, unsure how to start. She decided beating around the bush was the pointless route.

"During the attack from the Shade's infiltration, the battle between an elf and one of the magicians killed an innocent in the crossfire."

"Who? Why would someone have been there? We had clear instructions not to venture there."

"It was Helen, Jeod's wife. We do not know why she was there, but the theory is that she was lost."

Eragon closed his eyes, Jeod had suffered much in this war.

"Where is he now?"

"Still in his tent, he came to see her body briefly, but he has not left the tent since."

The Rider nodded, "I will visit him…will you both come with me?" He looked away, "I do not think I can do this alone."

_Little one, you are never alone. _

Arya let her hands wander through his hair, still tight against him. "Of course we shall come with you."

Mounting Saphira, Eragon returned his hands around Arya's waist, hating the temporary distance between them. He craved her touch, craved the knowledge she was with him. Saphira flew, tiredly towards the familiar tent. Eragon silently dismounted, his throat suddenly constricted. His words were no good here, he had not lost his lifelong partner. The Rider walked in the tent, purposely making noise to announce his arrival. Jeod sat in a chair, leaning back. A weary hand rest over his eyes, forcing him to be in darkness, even when his home was filled with it. A book lay on the ground next to him, as if to signify that all the knowledge, all the books in the world could mean nothing without the woman he loved, and without her, the abandoned book meant little to him.

At Eragon's arrival, the man looked up, finally lifting himself from the chair and sitting to face him. His eyes held no tears, only a look of utter wreckage. His wife's death did not send him into tears, he would not tarnish her memory. No, Jeod would never cry over Helen's death, he would no mourn her passing. Her husband, her Jeod, would celebrate her life, bask in the memories they shared together, love her eternally, and simply feel sad at her absence, as if she was on a long journey, parted from him.

The man smiled at Eragon, but it quickly faded away when he began to speak.

"I thank you for visiting an old friend of Brom's to see how he is holding together. However, I assure you I will cope. I lost my wife, but she is not all gone. She still lives in me, in what I will do to remember her, to pass down her legacy. Do not mourn her, celebrate her, celebrate what she was and live in her shadow, that is what I shall do as my last act for my wife."

"Jeod, I am sorry-"

"It was not your fault. Shadeslayer, I am tired and weary, you are as well. Your trip has not been wasted. I understand what the other men say. I do feel stronger in your presence, strong enough to overcome my greatest loss. But you also tired, and you must rest."

Eragon laid a hand on the man's shoulder before slowly turning and leaving his mess of a tent. Arya was waiting for him, mounted on Saphira's saddle, eager to leave for some well deserved rest. He mounted behind her and Saphira flew to the dragonhold. Eragon rid her of her saddle, wished the beautiful dragon goodnight, took his mate's hand and went to their room. He stripped himself of his armor. It grew heavy on his body, lightweight as it was. His body was filled with scent of blood and death. It permeated from his body so he could smell little else. He warmed some hot water and threw his clothing in it. Uncaring of his nudity, he turned to Arya and managed to tell her he was taking a bath. Letting the hot water fill the bath tub, he nearly fell into the contraption and closed his eyes.

He heard the door creak open as Arya entered, her leather armor bloodied and cut from the battle. She stripped herself as well, believing a hot soak the perfect solution for her own injured and aching body. The princess settled herself in the water, her back pressed against Eragon's torso, sitting on his lap. He raised his hands so he could grasp her thick hair and let it fall over his shoulder so she could relax further against him. Arya felt her mate's hands wrap around her body and rest on her abdomen. He was tired, so was she. They would leave when the water cooled, but not now. For now, they simply rested.

Arya placed her head in the nook of her mate's neck. It seemed a perfect pillow, one designed for her body. Closing her eyes, she let herself succumb to the growing drowsiness, partly instigated by the hot water, partly by her Rider's warm body engulfing her, his thumbs gently stroking her bare abdomen up and down. For what seemed like eternity, she finally fell asleep, her breathing changing to one long and deep.

Eragon instantly felt the longer rises against his hand, instantly realized she had fallen asleep in his arms. A dangerous notion had she been alone, however, it was inapplicable at the moment. Ensuring she did not wake up, he carefully lifted her from the now lukewarm water and dried them both. Turning the drain on with magic, he walked over to their bed, Arya still in his arms. He tucked her in, and then moved in beside her. Clothes were far too cumbersome in the humid night of August. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he had finally fallen asleep as well. 


	11. Chapter 36 Suspecting Suspicions

Chapter 36: Suspecting Suspicions

Morning came like an unfortunate occurrence. The battle was won, but even success in this endeavor was little condolence in the aftermath of such destruction. No matter, today was not a day to mope, he was alive, Saphira was alive, Arya was alive. He had more to celebrate than most others. Eragon remembered Oromis's advice.

_Eragon was reading a scroll, something uncomprehendable about a philosophy called existentialism which believed that…he did not even know. _

_Soon enough, his attention turned towards the warm weather. The sun was setting, his favorite time of day. The cloudless skies of Crags were stained blue and purple, streaks of a dark red shooting through. Placing the scroll down in his chest, he turned to look at the skies. It was the last measure of hope he had. The hope that when finally this wretched war was over, he could watch the sunsets in peace. He sighed, the stress of his situation returning on his face. _

_Oromis-elda had returned by then, and the elder Rider was watching him intently. _

"_Do you, Eragon – finarel believe that once the war is over, you will be able to watch the sunsets?" _

_His apprentice looked confused, as if trying to discern how his master discovered his thoughts. Eragon smiled after a while, letting go of his curiosity and simply allowing himself to be read. _

"_Yes, ebrithil, I believe I will." _

"_Do you believe that you can watch the sunsets during the war?"_

_Eragon looked puzzled again, but answered truthfully, "Yes and no. Yes, I can physically watch them, but no, they will not have the same effect unless the looming war ends." _

"_Then what are you doing right now?"_

_The young Rider looked sheepish, "I am watching the sunset." _

"_But not to the same effect?" _

"_But not to the same effect." Eragon confirmed. _

_Oromis held a laugh in his voice, the kind man was far nicer than any elf when it came to teaching a younger ignorant one. _

"_Finarel, do not place time and place on certain events. Beauty will be beauty no matter if a battle is occurring, no matter if the world is ending. In times like these, you must be able to find happiness in every little thing, rather than set a time and place to feel that happiness. Look at the sunsets to your heart's content. Do not think that it will be more beautiful when the war ends, it does not know the war is even existent. The sunset simply comes and goes, minding its own business, leaving those who admire it blessed by its sight. Eragon, blind is the man that cannot see happiness when it is presented before him. What I believe of you is that you refuse to find happiness in the littlest things as you fear you will lose it, as you have lost many others you found happiness in. But do not let that stop you from finding happiness. If there is a battle, and your cousin should live, find happiness in the fact that your family is alive. If there is a battle, and you lose your cousin, do not forget to smile upon your memories of him. Live in the moment, they are but fleeting, but they shall be ours every second of the day." _

"_Thank you ebrithil, I understand now." _

_Oromis smiled, "I had no doubt that you would not finarel." He laid out a chair, careful of the creatures that scurried around his home. Laying the chair next to his student, Oromis sat down, watching the sunset. Even he had to learn to take happiness in the littlest of things. _

Eragon snapped out of his memory. It was a later one, but one that Eragon had since incorporated into his mindset. The Rider no longer placed a time and place on happy events, he simple learned to take what was given to him or to make the best of what was. The loves of his life were both safe, yes, there were casualties, but the battle was won, and the march to Belatona would begin shortly. In the present situation, there was nothing more than he could have asked for.

Slowing running his hand through the dark raven silk of his mate, he basked in its softness. The strands were literal solid water, cascading down far past her shoulders. He loved it when she first woke up, her hair was out of place, relaxed, as if it too, needed a break from the perfect exterior composition Arya had. Eragon felt the princess stir under his hands. She brought her left hand to his chest, tracing the defined muscles, slowly, methodically.

She deviated from the symmetric path, tracing a thin line that stretched low on his abdomen. Smoothing her finger over it repeatedly, she looked to her mate for an explanation.

"I was hunting in the Spine, in my tenth year. Since I was the only one lucky enough to adventure in that forest without harm befalling me, I was alone. I saw a deer in the clearing, but I was too excited to see the deer that I forgot to check for tracks. A pack of wolves were in the area, and one of them attacked from the side. I avoided it, but its claws scratched me through my tunic. It faded away since then."

Arya covered the thin white line marring his smooth skin, desiring to erase the mark forever, as if doing so, would erase the horrid memory associated with it. But that desire left as quickly as it came. Arya loved the feel of scars on her Rider's body. They were testaments of the trials her surpassed, victories. But more than that, they were proof that he had overcome many horrid events to be with her now.

She traced a larger scar running straight down his torso, physically creating of separation.

"My first battle with a man. I left my chest open, I panicked, and he brought his sword straight down. He aimed to slice me in half, but I moved backwards in time and so he barely nicked my body. But it turned out to be a nasty scar. We were travelling fast, Brom and I, and with the rain, it got infected."

The images running through her head comforted her little. She could imagine the scared boy he was, used to simple sparring, attacked for the first time by one of his own. The rain beat mercilessly on them, and the boy bravely picked up a sword, determined to face his fears no matter the consequences. _Oh, how young he was_. The tasks Eragon had embarked on at the age of fifteen mirrored hers at the age seventy. _How could a soldier have done that to him? Tried to kill him. _Uncharacteristic rage boiled within her, if only she could find that soldier now.

"Do not be angry. He paid a high price for obeying his orders."

Eragon's voice had turned solemn, reminiscent on what was, reminiscent on what he would rather have no recollection of. Arya laid a comforting hand over his sternum, urging him to continue.

"After he attacked me, I took little time to recover from the shock. I easily defeated him, it was quick."

"And after?"

"And after? After, after I cried for some time, and moped for days after."

She closed her eyes, she was insensitive by all means by prompting him to tell her of his injuries. These were memories left unremembered. Arya slowly moved over him, bracing herself by his arm, she lifted herself a little to give her move space. Lowering her head down, she moved her lips over the start of scar, determined to associate it with a better memory. Alternating kisses, licks, and playful nips, she trailed all the way down his scar.

Her voice husky, she spotted another one and asked about it. The scar was on the side of his hip, over the bone and up towards his side.

"That was another hunting accident. I tracked two deer through the forest and I was about to kill one, however, the deer were alarmed by some noises, and the male attacked me. His antler grazed my side."

Arya repeated the same action over that scar, her desire for him building through her body.

MATURE CONTENT DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO

He seemed to read her mind. Eragon brought her up till she was face to face with him.

Gently turning her over, he placed her against the soft mattress and claimed her lips. He was not fast today, he neither desired for this moment to be over quickly or to be far less satisfactory for her. He moved his lips over hers, savoring them, their tasks his savior.

Running his hands over her smooth skin, he hitched her leg to his side, pressing it against his body, his lips never leaving hers. Breaking away from her, the only reason being his desire to pleasure her, he trailed kisses down her jaw, her throat, her sternum, stopping in between her breasts. He stopped, barely skimming over her smooth skin.

He smiled at her reaction. His light touches aroused her more than she could have imagined possible. Lifting her arms behind him, she held his head firmly, gently pushing him closer to her. Encouraging him to leap the mile of an inch separating them. Willingly obliging her request, he pressed his lips against the center of her chest, and smiled sending shivers of a whole new kind through her body, the kind that sent her heart in flurries. Eragon kept a firm hold on his mate, never forceful, but enough so she would not be writhing underneath him.

Her desire driving any sane thought from his mind, her fragrance of freshly ground pinecones engulfing his senses, he took one creamy swell of hers into possession. Gently scraping and biting the edge instigated a muffled scream from the beautiful woman in his arms. Determined to prove to show his gratitude, Eragon switched his attention to her other breast, sending waves of heat pulsing through her body.

Every nerve on end amplified by his pleasurable ministrations had Arya sobbing for release. This kind of pressure, this kind of need she had never experienced. And here he was, taking his time, _taking him own damned time_, keeping her on the edge. Trying to take control, she arched into him, begging him to go faster, but he would not yield to her demand. Instead taking her pleasure into account, prolonging the moment for as long as possible.

Feeling his own desire harden past the point of pain, Eragon kept himself under control. He could feel his sanity slipping from him, the beautiful body beneath him erasing any thought besides their pleasure from his mind. The Rider could feel his body shudder as he gazed on her precious body. This was different, this meant more than anything. Intercourse was one thing, something he heard the soldiers speaking of for stress relief. But this was different. This was making love, this was showing his mate exactly what she meant to him. This was him baring his heart to her, physically showing her how important she will always be to him.

Quickening his kisses, he trailed down her stomach over her feminine sheath. Wasting little time, he dipped his tongue into her fiery sheath, half answering her plea by attempting to relieve some pressure. Arya nearly came apart in his arms, her only source of control the aching need pulsing through her body and centering on her feminine core. When she nearly screamed out again, Eragon deemed she had enough of his exploration. Positioning himself over her core, he pressed gently through her folds, purposely creating more friction than necessary. She was tight, tighter than he could have hoped her to be. He moved steadily through her, holding her down firmly.

Eragon reached her maximum, burying himself hilt deep into her sheath. He moved in and out, driving in her over and over again. But he was not fast, instead he purposely went slower, focusing on creating the friction that sent her body burning. Her desire getting the better of her, she forced him to move faster, meeting his descending hips with hers. She pushed against him, clamping down hard on his body. Arya felt her limit come closer and closer, but it was still there, just beyond reach. She felt Eragon move forward, his hips still in that slow, but slightly faster, savory tempo. Capturing her lips, he surged in her one last time before beginning to quicken his movements. His limit was near as well. Repeatedly moving against, his pace far faster than before, he felt her climax shudder through her body, and her sheath grip him tightly. She sent him out of control, his body erupted into her seconds later, sating him temporarily. Still buried deep in her body, he glanced at his mate.

Her hair disheveled, her body flushed beautifully, Eragon believed that goddesses existed. There could be no other explanation as to how magnificent she was. Elf or not, Arya was unworldly, she was sent from the Heavens, a perfect creation, Fate's greatest work. He pulled out her body, initiating a gasp from the woman underneath him. Still holding himself over her body, Eragon bent down and took her lips once again. Lowering himself steadily, he was finally resting over her body. His arms slipped underneath her body, pressing her against him. He rested his head underneath her chin, his hair teasing her slightly. A fine sheen of sweat covered his body. Arya ran her hands soothingly over his back, murmuring how much she loved him so only he could have heard.

END MATURE CONTENT

He lay awake listening to her voice, soothing him back into peace. She spoke of how her heart flutters when he told her he loved her, of how one word from him could lift her burdens, of how she used to dream of mornings like these. Arya described how she was caught many times by her mother, staring after him, her entire body screaming at her to run after him. She told him how he made her feel like an innocent again, as if the horrors she had done and seen were vanished from her mind. She reminisced on how his smile could turn even the darkest of days, sunlit from dawn to dusk, of how his laugh send a shudder through her body, of how she would purposely try and embarrass herself, acting out of character simply to hear his laugh. And she told him of how she cried the days he was not with her, of how she turned into a shell of emotions unable to be felt.

Eragon's arms tightened around her, a wordless promise that if he could help it, he would stay by her side, loving her for the rest of eternity. He moved his head so his lips were on her neck. He kissed and bit gently. Moving to her ear he whispered his promise of never loving another. She looked at him, contented, loving eyes locked into his cerulean ones.

The sun had risen fully, temporarily blinding her. Sliding out of bed, she stretched her battle sore muscles, a small repercussion from being poisoned. She cleaned her body with magic, far too content with the present way her body felt to change it. Putting on a deep blue tunic, she wrapped her hair up in a bun, letting a few strands run astray. Pulling on a pair of tight fitting, fighting friendly pants, she strung her new emerald blade to her side. She expected her mate to have at least risen from bed, but he made no motion to do so. His head propped up on an elbow, he watched with an amused expression.

She frowned at him and walked over, a playfulness edging on her face.

"Will you not get up?"

He laughed, pulling her on top of him over the blankets. She smiled a little, amused with his own lethargic attitude. He had no desire to get out of bed, and he had no desire of letting her go either.

Kissing him deeply, she pulled away, much to his disapproval. Playing the only card she knew would work she asked, "Will you not even go see Elva?"

He sighed dejectedly, of course she knew that was the only thing he would have actually responded to. With a frown on his face, he looked at her amused expression and languidly rose out of bed. He dressed in casual clothes, felt pants and his usual Rider clothing, a full hand white shirt and a vest made of a thick golden material. Lacing the front tightly, he examined his appearance. The clothes fit tighter, no doubt due to his growth in muscle weight. He looked like a Rider, as if he fit the part now, not drowning in its reputation.

"How do I look?" He looked at Arya, still slightly unsure if he should wear something more down to earth on the day after a battle.

She walked towards him, quickly shortening the distance in mere seconds. "You look like a Rider, although I do not think I will like this particular wardrobe choice of yours."

"Why not?" His frown was apparent in his voice, as if he believed he had worn something wrong or out of place. He motioned to remove it, choosing something else. The soft weight of Arya's hand brought his thoughts back to her question.

"You look far too attractive today for me to even risk you going in public with all those women. They are bound to lust after you."

She looked down, ashamed she would not be above jealousy. Arya's envy had never gotten the better of her until now. Like a child hiding a toy, she felt the uncontrollable need to take Eragon somewhere and hide him from those desiring him. The only comfort to her was his beautiful smile, the one only she was privileged enough to see, the one when his heart was in his eyes, and his love for her overflowed through them.

"Iet Drottningu, you have nothing to be jealous of. You are easily the most beautiful woman anywhere you walk."

Arya looked in his eyes, leaning closer into the warmth of his arms.

"Iet evarínya nuanen, no one else holds my heart as you do. Without my heart, I cannot even think those other women attractive. And you have mine completely under your control. I love you, only you."

The elven princess chastised herself for the feelings of jealousy arising in her. She had nothing to fear. Her Rider was nothing like the other men, lusting after other women when already bound to another. So what if other women stared at Eragon, she should be disturbed. Instead, she should bask in the knowledge that her mate was the most desired man in any land, and he was hers.

She leaned up the few inches that distanced them, and kissed him soundly on his lips. Another sensation that could tire her little. Kissing him, feeling his lips on hers, or hers on his, or however it was, sent her spiraling. She loved him, that could be the only plausible explanation as to why his kisses had such an effect on him. He pulled away slightly, kissing her forehead when he pulled away completely. Taking her hand, he laced his fingers with hers as he made his way over to Angela's room. Arya took the liberty of moving out of his hand, and wrapping her arm around his waist, clearly not happy with the distance. He mirrored her, wrapping his arm around her back, his thumb moving back and forth over her side.

They arrived to Elva's room shortly after. Eragon knocked on the door, waiting to be acknowledged. Hearing shuffling on the other side, the Rider waiting patiently until Angela opened the door for him. The witch stood in front of him, a scowl nowhere near her face. Angela smiled and opened the door wider. Attempting to see what she was so ecstatic about, he looked past her to Elva.

The girl was sitting up in bed, petting Solembum on his head. She looked a little sickly, thinner, but far better. Her face and body was still a little red, evidence that she still had remnants of the poison in her, but she was clearly winning the battle. When Eragon entered, she looked up at him, and then quickly looked away. Elva obviously knew the lengths at which the Rider had gone to make sure she healed. Three days of visiting her constantly, changing her bandages, creating the serum, even answering Angela's call was more than she could have expected. More than she had a right to expect at least, after the way she had treated him.

But the Rider held no contempt for her. Elva had known him to be a better man than the rest. Legitimately caring for her well being. He let her go because that is what he thought she wanted. Eragon strode over to her bedside, a smile on his face, happiness unbounded in his eyes.

"How are you feeling Elva?"

"Better."

He chuckled, "That is good. On a more serious note, I would like to see how the entrance bite is doing, and track the infection, and then see how your fever is holding up. Is that alright with you, or would prefer is Angela did it?"

"It does not matter."

Eragon nodded and lifted her arm up. She had good movement and the swelling decreased by a lot. It was great progress since he had first treated her a few days ago. He deemed the paste unnecessary and wrapped her arm instead. Eragon felt her forehead for signs of fever. It had reduced, her skin was hot, but not burning like it was before. She was no longer sweating either.

"Elva, I am happy to say that you are recovering wonderfully. Your fever has gone down faster than I expected, and the infection is gone. Your skin just needs to heal itself now."

He got up from the side of her bed and went to Angela.

"Angela, I do not believe we will be moving from Feinster until a week or so. We need time to recover and then obtain information from Belatona for strategy. Elva should be fully healed until then."

The witch nodded, looking past him at Elva. The girl looked at her hands, fiddling with them as she had nothing else to occupy herself with. Eragon placed a comforting hand on Angela's shoulder before walking over to Arya and wrapping his arm around her waist. They left shortly after.

Saphira was still asleep, tired from yesterday's battle. It was the first time they had been separated for such a long time during a battle. The war council was due to meet in an hour's time, but Eragon had much to discuss with the Varden's leaders. The most of which dealing with a possible traitor in their midst. His worried expression returned to his face. Whoever the traitor was, the man had placed Arya in danger. She was Galbatorix's target now…because of him.

Whoever that _bastard _was would pay a price. That traitor just turned this war personal, and Eragon was determined to find him and the rid the traitor of his duty. Arya gripped his waist tighter, a reminder that she was still by his side, safe, alive.

"Did Vaarek say anything to you Arya?"

She went silent for a moment, recollecting the experience.

"Nothing that you do not already know."

"There is a traitor among the Varden, one that gave information about our battle strategies away, the one that told the Shade exactly where you would be."

"Do you have any ideas?"

"No, I have not the least idea."

Eragon walked towards the courtyard. The war council would not be held there as Saphira was not coming to it. The meeting would be held in the conference room on the fourth floor. The courtyard was fairly abandoned, only a few messengers hurried to complete their tasks. After the battle, most all in the Varden were still resting, recovering from the mental and physical exertion of the battle. Sitting down at a bench, isolated from the main pathways, Eragon rested his head on Arya's lap, his arms wrapped around her waist, his head buried in the softness of her tunic. Instantly bringing her hands to his hair, she began to scrape his scalp gently, her nails grazing the surface in a soothing motion.

She glanced at his resting form. There were few sights more relaxing than the sight of him. He had his eyes closed, his arms held her softly, but firmly, safely. His mouth curved into a boyish smile, the last evidence that he had not completely lost his mischievous tendencies, one that proved inside the hard exterior of a man, was the boy that she adored, the one far more endearing to her than all else. The smile that sent her back eighty some years into the girl that would have fallen for him had he but laughed a little, or asked her to dance before asking the others. It was comforting to know that her choice would still have been Eragon had she been twenty or one hundred years of age. He would always be perfect for her, her perfect mate. She bit her lip, suppressing a laugh when he nuzzled her stomach, already falling back into the beginnings of sleep, tickling her slightly.

The trees covered the hot rays of the sun from their bodies, keeping them in the cooler Shade. The fresh air was comforting, flowing over her graceful elven body, producing an effect of aero-dynamicity hardly replicable. The breeze created intriguing ripples across Eragon's white shirt, lifting and falling at the edges. He moved his shoulder blades in response, adjusting himself to the new sensations. There were many tasks to be completed, but he was content with simply relaxing at the moment. The feel of Arya in his arms, and his head resting on her muscular, firm thighs – he savored it. The time passed quickly, an unfortunate occurrence.

The sounds of the leaders heading towards the fourth floor of the castle brought Eragon out of his resting place. He lifted himself up, freeing Arya from her position. He sat down upright, they still had some time before they needed to be there. From the position of the sun, close to ten minutes. Arya laid her head on his chest, moving her hands across his waist, obviously in no mood to head back towards the needs of the Varden. But it was of no choice, she lethargically rose from her place and held both her hand out to her mate.

He took them in his larger ones, rising so he stood in front of her. She was so ethereally beautiful. The green of their surroundings making her emerald gems stand out. The wind caressed her features, lifting the stray raven strands into her face. He raised a tentative hand, daring to mar the perfection he saw before him, and brushed a tendril behind her ear. A gust of wind streamed through the trees, dislodging some purple petals of flowers, raining down, blanketing them as if nature itself had deemed them mates. This, her, in this exact moment, threatened to let him lose control. His eyes still locked on hers, he moved his hands away and muttered in the Ancient Language. Instantly the blue streaks of the essence of his magic flowed and created a fairth of Arya as she just was, petals raining down on her, permanently capturing the image.

He smiled at his work, holding it carefully in his hands. Finally bringing himself to look at her, he raised his eyes. She looked at it intently, her eyebrows furrowed, but a smile playing on her lips. Eragon was slightly embarrassed at having been unable to rein in his magic when the thought came, but the magnificence of the outcome far outweighed any discomfort. Arya continued smiling at him, and took his hand. Words need not have been said.

The Rider stopped by their room, carefully placing the fairth next to the desk with various scrolls. The meeting would begin soon, and he had no desire to take such a personal and valuable item and share it with acquaintances.

The leaders stood in a circle, Nasuada at one end of the table. Islanzadi opposite her. Commander Alinor stood next to General Huvin and General Halton. The three of them had become an inseparable pair after the famed Battle of the Sea. Vanir was still in the medical tent, or else his recent promotion to Commander would have ensured he join the war councils. Roran was not there, he sent word that he was tending to his men as they suffered great injuries. Nar Garzhvog was also nowhere to be seen, however, that was not uncommon. He only liked the fight, and had little interest in the aftermath.

Nasuada was rambling on about the numbers and what not, but there was a more pressing issue.

"Lady Nasuada, if I may."

The leader of the Varden nodded and Eragon stepped forward.

"It has come to my attention that we have been betrayed. The Shade that entered the stronghold had known exactly where his target was beforehand. He also knew of our battle formations and strategies of fighting on the ground. When I searched his memories, there was a particular one that outright stated that the dark king Galbatorix had a man on the inside of the Varden. I, however, do not know who that could be."

Nasuada sat down, this was not information she wanted to hear.

"No doubt the king will feel quite discouraged after we beat his men even with his prior knowledge of strategy. The traitor will not make a mark anytime soon. We must search for him. Queen Islanzadi, if I may ask a favor."

"What is it Lady of the Varden?"

"In order to search out this informant, I would like some elves to nonchalantly explore the city, watching for any signs of betrayal, no in actions but more in their mind. Most of the people here have no ability to protect their mind from such invasion, and so it will be quite easy to tell. However, those who do and do not wish to be invaded will be done so forcefully. We cannot take any chances, not anymore."

"With all due respect, may I speak?"

Commander Alinor raised his voice, grabbing the attention of the two leading ladies.

"It seems highly unlikely that we will find him that way."

"And why is that Alinor?"

"Simply because, Islanzadi Drottning, it is highly unlikely that he would stay here after such a deafening loss. The traitor obviously would have known that he was being chased once none of the twelve spellcasters under Arya Drottningu's command died. He had no reason to stay for longer. And if he did, no doubt, he would have had orders to finish the job the Shade left unfinished, and since none of them talked of attempts on their life, it can be safely said that he is dead or he had fled. I say we let him go for now, our priority is Belatona, and if he is still used by the king, then he shall be in Belatona waiting for us. It is not question that we are moving towards the city of craftsmen next."

"What happens if the traitor has not left?"

Commander Alinor raised a patient eyebrow as he looked in the direction of the speaker. Nasuada was always calculating, just as a leader should be. The elf commander did not mind his opinions being questioned for good reason.

"In either case Lady Nasauda, the traitor will not be showing himself anytime soon. The war has gone in our favor, we are on his tail, the king will not be pleased and the man will not be contacting him anytime soon."

"Do you not think it wise to at least continue with what was suggested?"

"Wise yes, necessary no. We can afford to lax a little in our security."

"What do you think Shadeslayer?"

Eragon thought carefully. He had a personal vengeance on this man, there was no way he was escaping his wrath, however, the Rider could not let his anger cloud his judgment.

"I do believe Commander Alinor's idea is the most practical. We will face this traitor once again, and we will be prepared. In any case, we can take preventative measures. Perhaps letting the traitor go now will lead us to a weakness of the king's at a later time."

Nasuada nodded, she did not like the idea, but it made sense. Her father would have hunted and brought the man to his knees in front of the Varden. Being a man of honor, Ajihad was calm and controlled, but even he lost control in the presence of dishonest men. Then again, the last she checked, she was the leader of the Varden, not her father. Ajihad was a man to be respected, but he could be impersonated by none other than himself.

Nasuada dismissed the meeting. The war was won, there was little to discuss other than making sure those traveling were able to. The leader of the Varden sat down as the leaders and commanders exited her tent. Eragon and Arya, her only friends left remained.

"I am glad you both are safe."

The man her friend had become laughed. "I am glad you are safe as well Nasuada. After the first assassination attempt, I do not think there will not be an attempt on your life as well. But not anytime soon."

She smiled a dark smile, "Perhaps this is what Angela means. The end of the war will mark the day my assassin succeeds."

Arya frowned, dying was the last thing she wanted to talk about, especially with a friend. "Nasuada, I do not think that time will come soon. The war is not ending soon."

"I wish it would."

Eragon looked at her quizzically. The end of the war marked the end of her. She saw his expression and explained herself.

"My father died Eragon. As did my mother. The only man I loved, the only one I had left is now also dead. My life is in the afterlife, not here. I await the day we will be reunited."

He felt Arya rest a comforting hand on his back, applying a little pressure, soothing his protesting mind. Acting in coordination with the calm feelings she elicited within him, Eragon smiled and nodded. He was in no position to speak. Losing Arya would be end of him, and he whether he would follow her into the afterlife or stay with Saphira would be the most challenging decision. For in each scenario, he sentenced the other to a life alone.

_I know how much Arya means to you little one. I would follow you as well. _

_I would never willingly sentence you to a life without your mate Saphira. I love you too much for that. _

_If that day shall come, then we shall live as long as we are needed, ensuring the world is back in the proper order before leaving it to join our loved ones._

Saphira was silent across the link, before she added, _It is likely little one, that I will never find a mate. More likely than not._

_There is the green egg, we know it is a male. _

_I know that, however, in his last moments, I fear the king will attempt to destroy the egg if he cannot get it to hatch by then. _

_There have to be some free dragons somewhere. _

_I do not know little one. _

Eragon heard a swoosh outside the window, confirming Saphira's presence outside the stronghold. He and Arya took leave of Nasuada, his desire to see Saphira overwhelming his at the moment. The Rider heard his mate chuckle at his haste down the stairs, but she nevertheless kept his pace with ease.

_Little one, shall we fly today? _

_You never have to ask, my Sapphire, of course I do. _

Saphira looked at Arya expectantly, assuming she would wish to join after her wondrous previous experience. But the princess declined.

"Forgive me Saphira, I must to see Tydrenea and Raerieth and the rest of my soldiers. I believe there was some minor problem in Gilead yesterday, however I do not know of the details."

"Is something the problem?" Eragon asked concernedly, if something went wrong in Gilead, the elves could lose their hold, and the Varden would lose an important position, not to mention many warriors in the battle.

"I do not know, but it is worrisome."

Eragon stepped closer, running his hand over her arm, instantly easing the tension built from the possibilities she was conjuring up.

"Do not worry, iet Drottningu, your people will be fine. No harm will befall them."

She let a hesitant laugh show through, "If I truly am your princess, then they are your people as well."

Arya was rambling, her voice in the nonchalant tone, preventing herself from thinking of anything other than what was important.

"Then, iet Drottningu, our people will be fine." The Rider lowered his head and capture Arya's lips slowly, a small comfort to her. Afraid to open her mouth for the fear of rambling some other nonsensical sentences, she nodded and bid the Rider and dragon goodbye.

_I love you. _

The princess closed her eyes as she heard his voice echo in her head. Arya turned and watched Eragon's fervent eyes long after hers. She continued to walk backwards, ensuring she would not run back into her arms, a child fearful of the world around her. Soon his outline disappeared on the horizon. She sighed and went to find her mother's tent. There was something wrong in Gilead.

Eragon leapt on Saphira's back, eager to fly with her again. Flying was easily his most favorite experience, how his Sapphire ever desired to land again was beyond him.

_Little one, I must rest as some point. _

_I know, but this is just so…exhilarating. _

_What would you like to see today? What sight excites your eyes? _

_Let us try something new. Glaedr-elda? _

Eragon reached his mind to the glowing orb safely tucked away in Saphira's saddle pouch.

_What is it finarel? _

_Could you teach us something new? _

_Something new? Well, there is one maneuver that I have never taught Saphira before. However it can only be taught when the Rider and Dragon are together, so I suppose there was never really a chance. _

_What is it ebirthil? _

_Eragon, you will fly in this one. It is the principles of physics. Things in motion will stay in motion, therefore, we can assume that Eragon, when you are flying on Saphira, you are also moving, and therefore will remain moving even if Saphira was not there. So the task is the release yourself from Saphira and continue in a horizontal path even though Saphira is long behind._

_How will Saphira be behind me?_

_As a collective mass, the force required to move you is far greater than moving just you Eragon. Therefore, with the amount of force already built up, and your less required mass, you should theoretically fly faster forward than Saphira. This technique is used often when a great amount of distance needs to be covered in a short amount of time. Of course the Rider will be vulnerable during the time of flight, but will have a greater chance of succeeding with more time on his hands. Are you ready Eragon Bromsson, Saphira Bjartskular? _

_Yes, ebirthil. _

_Very well, then I shall show you the movement, try and mimic it. _

The movement played in Eragon's head. It was one of Glaedr-elda's previous student who was performing the same task. Once they felt comfortable with the movements, Saphira took to a steady horizontal pace and beat her wings in order to reach a maximum horizontal velocity.

Bracing himself, Eragon undid his straps. His eyes began to tear from the wind beating in his face, but he could still see clearly. He brought his legs out behind him. From afar, he looked like he was hanging on for dear life, his hands clamped around the front of the saddle, and his legs flying in the air behind him, held up by the sheer speed of Saphira's flight. Eragon gave the signal he was ready, his voice surprisingly calm in the face of danger. With one graceful movement, Saphira swept underneath, diving down from her position as Eragon let go of the saddle. He hurtled forward, cutting through the air like a blade through skin. He rotated several times, his body going into a vertigo. Unused to the speed, Eragon lost his bearings as he continued to speed forward. No longer could he tell the sky from the ground, it was an indiscernible swirl.

_Saphira! _

The mighty dragoness saw his plight before even he had admitted it. Less than a second after his call, Saphira grabbed Eragon out of the air in her claws, not even chancing him missing the saddle. His senses were in awry, his head still turning from his high speed spinning. Saphira landed shortly after, deeming solid ground the proper treatment for his nausea.

_Finarel, how are you feeling now? _

Eragon braced himself on Saphira's shoulder, his legs threatening to buckle under the solid ground.

_Better, ebirthil, however, I think I need more practice before I attempt such a trick in battle. _

_A wise decision. Take some more time to center yourself, then continue on your flight. _

_Thank you ebirthil. _

Saphira looked concernedly down at her Rider. He was a sickly color, and his eyes were constantly moving, unable to focus. He was worse than she thought. Eragon fell to the ground with the intention of placing his feet above his head, increasing the blood flow to his head. However, he felt the last remnants of strength leave him with his attempt to move his legs above his head. Groaning at his condition, the Rider sent some undecipherable Jargon to Saphira. But she seemed to understand, for she lifted his legs with her snout for him, relieving his instantly.

Eragon lay, the blood rushing back into his head, stabilizing him. As if giving life to his mind once more, Eragon felt the increasing blood flow in his head cause distant memories to arise. The first were of him and Roran as children. The Rider watched carefully as his memories shifted from adolescent sight and unclear thoughts to perfectly copied memories and a wealth of sensation as he grew older.

"_Eragon!" _

_The brown eyed, brown haired boy turned. His face was young, inexperienced, yet it bore the responsibility of feeding his family something substantial. Young Eragon was leaving to hunt in the Spine and his cousin was running after him with a renewed energy. _

_He turned with a slightly irritated look, "What is it Roran? I haven' the time if I am going to track a herd." _

"_The herd can wait, this will not. I have news for you." _

"_Well, what is it?" _

"_Katrina and I have decided to get married." _

"_You idiot, you are barely fifteen. You are not getting married anytime soon."_

"_Well of course not now, but later when we are older." _

"_That's right Roran, you plan your wedding years before it actually happens." _

"_Well, what else do I have? What do you have to life for? Nothing as of yet." _

"_I will find something." _

"_Yes, find something in your fantasy world, something to obsess over. Eragon the mighty hunter will become a hero in the world. For God's sake Eragon be reasonable. I told you some practical, something that could actually happen, and you still refuse to think on it. Turning your back around, scowling as if you have something more important to do." _

_Eragon was beginning to get irritated. He actually did have something more worthwhile to do than listen to his cousin plan a wedding. _

"_Roran, I must get going. Winter is coming soon and we have no food." _

"_Fine then, go do whatever your more important task is than be there in happiness with your family. Leave your family behind, and go save your own precious world." _

_With his last words, Roran turned and left. The young farmer chuckled a little afterwards. His cousin was always the dramatic one, thinking of his marriage from now, using words and twisting them. He would be a great speaker if he was not a farmer. _

The memory faded away. _If only he had seen how true that was then. The things he could have accomplished._ There was no going back, his memories would stay the same, even if he wished otherwise. Eragon faired far better with some time. Testing his luck, the Rider slowly raised himself from the ground.

_Little one, how do you feel?_

_Better Saphira, thank you for that. _He noticed the great dragoness's attention elsewhere. She was staring intently in the forest, watching something.

_What do you see Saphira? _

_Oh nothing in particular. Just a few rabbits, a male deer, and a wild boar. _

Eragon huffed in amusement, _You must be hungry. You have not eaten since a day or so before the battle. _

_Yes, I was quite tired afterwards so I did not. And before, well, before I just had not the appetite. _

_Go and hunt Saphira. Do not keep yourself from eating for me. I shall be fine here. I do require some meditation. Something relaxing at least._

_Very well, I shall be back before you finish. _

Eragon felt the his hair breezed back by the strength of Saphira's wings as she ascended in the sky. He watched her silhouette slowly fade as she skimmed over the forest in her aerial assault. Truly, she was the fiercest warrior alive. There was no foe able to best her in a battle.

Turning his head back to the forest scenery before him, the Rider's thoughts turned to Arya. He was worried for her, or at least worried the news she would receive would upset her lately. Eragon knew she was strong enough to handle grim news, yet he hated when the elven princess was forced to put her talents to use. He closed his eyes, letting his barriers drop as the happenings of his surroundings engulfed his senses. At once Eragon began to feel the power of each and every living being in the forest, and at once he thought on the grim power he knew of, the ability to destroy the world using the world itself. He focused away from the life forms, but he kept his mind open as he honed in on his breathing. He strove to keep his mind blank, free from any stray thoughts. Those who could control their mind would live a calm and peaceful life.

Satisfied with the state of his mind, the elf-like human apparition began to fluidly in the stream next to the forest. Eragon had begun the Rimgar. His sore body was proof that he was not taking the correct measures in ensuring his muscles were developed and relaxed. His movements were strong and coordinated, flexible yet firm. The unleashing of his Grey Folk powers undoubted increased his flexibility. However that had its problems. Eragon had crossed the third level, and still his muscles were tight and tired.

He sighed, unsatisfied with the limited knowledge he possessed. As he began to turn, the familiar scent of pinecones reached his senses. Inhaling the pleasing scent, he lifted his eyes to sight the possessor of such an ethereal fragrance. Arya walked swiftly towards him, her eyes revealing nothing of what had happened in her mother's tent.

Her musical voice sounded, locking him in place, "Have you not learned the fourth level?"

Of course he had not, it was a stupid question and she knew it. Arya knew what Eragon knew and what he did not. And even if she had not the slightest idea, the fact that he had not gone past the third level some three or four months ago when she watched him told her the answer to her unnecessary question. But her elflike nature deemed her too proud to admit such a fact, especially after the news she had received. If Eragon knew the idiocy of her question, he did not say anything – an act of chivalry, a philosophy she had thought long dead until she had met Eragon.

"No, iet Drottningu, I have not. Will you teach me?"

Arya nodded. Silently, she had hoped he would ask. It gave her a way to take her mind off the problems she faced. Arya looked to Eragon once again…she would never have to face them alone. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked concernedly at her. Her thoughts were projected loudly to him, she never left his mind, yet she did not constantly monitor his thinking either, and neither did he hers. He felt her anxiety, but he could not find its source.

"Arya?"

A questioning glance coupled with a questioning voice.

"I shall teach you Eragon. Stay in the water, I shall be there shortly."

The princess removed her sword and other weaponry. She left her hair in a bun, keeping it off her neck preventing any amount of perspiration forming on the back of her neck. She removed her shoes, all the while keeping her gaze on Eragon's muscled torso. He had removed his shirt as he often did during the Rimgar. She noticed his stance was rigid, a contradiction to her usual observations of him as fluid and relaxed. In either case, he still moved with the gracefulness from before. Finally removing her shoes, she joined her mate in the flowing water.

"Watch me and then mimic me."

She stood stoic, her front facing the other side of the water. Moving one leg back, she bent so she was lunging, her body formed at perfect ninety degree angles at every junction. Arya lifted her hands towards the sky, the sign of the start of the warrior dance of the Rimgar, the fourth and final stage.

Eragon mimicked her movements, surprised at how quickly he was able to catch the fine details of her movements, and ever more startled at how quickly his muscles began to burn during this particular stage.

They continued back and forth. Arya performing two stances at one time and Eragon following her quickly after. He was by no means memorizing as he went, but it was a start.

Arya had moved to the last pose, a final testament to her worth as a warrior – her strength as an elf. She raised one leg off the ground and moved forward so her body was parallel with the water beneath her. Her arms was strong in front of her, and her head was slightly raised keeping her entire spine straight. With one powerful burst of energy she bent the one standing leg and flipped her lithe body over, landing in a position of complete fluid rigidity. Her legs were wide apart, nearly twice as long as the length of her shoulders, and her arms were straight, as if a bird in flight extending its full wingspan. Her head faced forward and her eyes were set on the bank directly across from her position.

A splash in the water close to her brought her attention to her mate. She chided herself for not properly watching how he was faring. The fourth and final Dance of the Snake and Crane was not something to be taken lightly. Even the most experienced of warriors had trouble from shifting to pure flexibility to raw strength, and she had not even spared a thought for the man she loved the most. Her distress had wiped from her memory that he had never learned it before as she focused on simply relieving her own stress. She was not fit to be a mate, not to someone who constantly thought of her happiness and welfare above his own, especially when she had only her own puzzles to solve.

Arya looked at him. The strength in his body amazed her. It was as if his mental capacity was shown in the way he physically looked. He carried himself with the utmost confidence of a man tried, tested, and victorious. But never arrogant, his confidence was deserving. A tear threatened to leak from her eyes, but she dismissed it. Wading slowly through the water towards him, Arya corrected his stance. The princess moved his leg a bit farther forward, his arm slightly moved down, his tone abdomen tucking in, and his neck pushed forward so his spine was in one direction.

Her hand lingered on his neck, moving ever so softly down his chest, his sternum to rest on his developed muscles. At once Eragon's gaze sharpened, he was beginning to truly panic at Arya's depressed behavior. Quickly moving out of his corrected pose, he brought his arms down and lifted her body in his arms. Taking her out of the water, Eragon held her in his arms, close to his heart. She did nothing but tuck herself closer towards him, her head buried in his neck, while her hand remained against his body.

Sensing her tiredness, Eragon set on her softly on the grass. Sitting next to her, he moved so she was relaxing across him. Her head on his lap, and his hands moving over her jawline.

"Arya, what is wrong?"

Closing her eyes, begging to forget what she had learned, she began her tale.

"We have reason to believe an elf traitor is among us."

She felt a small uptake of breath, signaling a gasp from her balanced mate.

"The facts logically add to that conclusion. The first time Gilead was attacked by the Shade and a small force of men, they were well hidden within the ranks of elven men. It came as a surprise. The second skirmish happened similarly, however, this time the attacking men knew the passageways in the fortress, something the highest of ranked officials in command there did not know. Therefore, we can only assume that the traitor discovered the passageways himself, which is unlikely due to the fact no one of that elf's rank was seen in the castle, or he was told by someone who had intimate knowledge of the layout, a man of the Empire. Since no human, even a human in disguise of an elf could have entered, we can deduce that the traitor is an elf. I did not think it possible, but upon reexamining the forest through which he traveled, I gained a better sense of time and was able to gauge the pathway and speed. It is no doubt the same person who lead the Shade to his target here also led a small force of Empire's men through the castle during the rebellion two nights ago. And only an elf could travel the distance in two and a half days, from here to Gilead on foot."

She was met with silence. Opening her eyes, she looked up, seeing Eragon's gaze move through the forest, slicing through the forest in front of them. Bringing his attention back to the current situation, she lifted her hand to his cheek, forcing him to look down at her. She felt the breeze cease against her hand as he covered it with his own warm ones. Pressing her hand against his face, he placed his lips on her palm and brought their clasped hands back to rest on her abdomen. He began tracing some pattern over on her palm, absently. Only after careful consideration did she discern he was writing her name on her palm repeatedly. A-R-Y-A, the again, A-R-Y-A. She stopped his movements, comforting though as they were, and clasped here hand around her mate's neck. Using his strength to pull herself up, she lifted her torso from his lap and brought her lips to his. Arya instantly felt his arms move around her back, taking the effort of keeping her in the air onto himself. Letting herself be held by his strength, Arya deepened the kiss. She missed this, she missed being able to meet his lips with hers whenever she wanted during the day. Those four hours without the warmth of his body were cumbersome ones. A small kiss was not enough to cover the number of times she pined for him to be by her side. Pined for the safety of his arms, pined for the beauty of his eyes, or the magnificence of his voice.

Eragon pulled away from her lips, still holding her close to him. Removing one hand from her back, he lifted his palm to caress her cheek.

"Arya, I fear for you."

The elven princess searched his eyes, looking for any tendril of other than worry streaking through them. She could find none. Her search in vain, Arya nuzzled her mate's strong jawline, gently pressing her lips against his neck.

"Fear is a wasted emotion. There is nothing to fear now, not with you by side, iet skölir." Laying her check against his steady heart, Arya closed her eyes to the soothing sound. "In any case-" she continued in a more light hearted tone, "the traitor is obviously not here and therefore cannot actually do anything to me. Or you for that matter."

"What measures have been taken to find the traitor out?"

Her voice losing its fake cheeriness, the princess replied in her monotone voice, "No elf has been found treacherous. Most likely meaning the traitor fled when the attack proved to be a failure. As of right now, the warriors are searching for comrades unaccounted for, perhaps the answer will lie in the documentation of war."

Arya felt Eragon's arms tighten around her, firm, but never painful. The warmth of his body burned through her clothing material, naturally heating her body.

"Tell me something Eragon, tell me something to take my mind off of the dreary events of today."

"Very well, today, Glaedr-elda taught Saphira and I a new battle technique. It involved Saphira and I separating in midair, and flying…well, more hurtling towards a target. Used for long distances only, and when the target is rather large, as there is much room for error. And when Saphira cannot fly fast enough, hard pressed as that it."

"And?"

"And I tried it, but I quickly fell dizzy. I felt as if I was in a vertigo and I could not tell the sky from the ground. I lost balance and my way. Saphira caught me as I fell, and she set me on the ground."

A small series of quick breathes and a lightly shuddering body signaled her laughter. Eager to hear her true laugh, Eragon continued his story.

"Of course after I hit the ground, I stayed next to Saphira who, while I was feeling quite giddy, went ahead and discovered the presence of her next meal in the forest. You can imagine, in the wake of a hungry dragon, I had to quickly recover my senses."

At last he was rewarded with her laughter. No one else could take his sorrows away like Arya, and nothing could make a world under the dark king a world of pure bliss like her laugh. His ears were satisfied for the moment, her laughter would play in them repeatedly until the stress of his mind clouded out the most magnificent of thoughts.

"Another story Eragon, some good memory, something worth remembering."

"Anything for iet Drottningu. When Saphira was still in her egg, I had believed her to be a stone, a very precious stone. I showed it to my uncle Garrow, and together, we tried to sell it away. However, the trader would not take it, and only days later, Saphira hatched. I have not told her yet, so please do not let that slip. Leaving her for days at a time sent the both of us into a horrid emotional time, I fear of what she will do if she discovers I attempted, unknowingly, to separate us a tad more permanently."

"No, I doubt she would. That is rather comical though. Another proof as to how much you have changed. I do not think I could picture you as a farmer though."

"Neither could my uncle. Perhaps that I why he sent me hunting instead of working in the fields."

Her worry practically erased, Arya let her hands graze and rake through her mate's lush brown hair. Holding herself closer to him, she slowly brought her lips to his, sealing her worry away. 

"Thank you, iet Shurtugal."

Pressing his lips against hers one last time, the Rider pulled away and smiled, the smile he only gave her.

A powerful gust of wind in their direction brought their attention to the skies. Saphira had returned. The sapphire beauty landed gracefully next to their resting bodies. Brushing her snout to Arya's forehead, the dragon ensured that all would be well.

_How are Tydranea and Rarieth, little princess?_

_A few cuts here and there, but nothing serious. They fared quite well in the battle._

_Indeed that is good news. Have you heard anything of Vanir? _

_No, I have not. _

"I would like to visit him today. See how he is feeling from last night."

Saphira sent her agreement over the connected link. Lifting Arya from his arms, he rose from the ground and placed her steady on her feet. She jumped on to the saddle, Saphira's growing size requiring her athleticism. Eragon quickly followed, his arms lightly resting against her body.

Her wings catching the wind, Saphira effortlessly soared over the land beneath her. Nothing threatened her as she lifted herself above the clouds. Part of her basked in that, the other hated it. The last free dragon was an unbearable burden. The only hope she had was the last dragon egg, but she knew her Rider would do all he can to keep her from loneliness. She had chosen well.

Saphira landed outside the medical tent, keeping from jarring her little ones much. Her Rider dismounted first, walking over to her and gently scratching the back of her ears.

_How was your hunt? _

The ground rumbled under her contented growl. _Immensely satisfying. _

_I am glad. _

The Rider walked towards the medical tent, Arya close behind him. Opening the tent flap, Eragon held the entrance open for his mate. She saved him a smile and entered after, gently grasping his hand pulling him in.

"Vanir, how are you?"

The lean elf was upright in bed, talking with one of the healers. She left when Eragon had walked in.

"Quite fine, Eragon, Drottningu. I have recovered nicely. I feel ready to fight again."

The Rider raised an eyebrow. The bandage across his abdomen was still quite red and quite fresh. The elf chuckled once again.

"I am glad you have visited me. I would like to know of the plans."

Arya spoke next, she was the most informed of the situation.

"Since you and Queen Islanzadi came from Ellesmera to lead the warriors during the Battle of the Sea after Oromis and Glaedr's funeral, and your original station was Gilead, we deemed it best that you return to that fortress for defense purposes. The battle of Belatona will not be so difficult since the town is weakly defended. With the elves, dwarves, Urgals, and humans here, not to mention the lack of a Rider on the Empire's part, we will take over the city in a two day siege. From then, we shall march to Dras Leona where both the Varden and the elves from Gilead shall meet and attack the city together and wait the winter out until the final march on Uru'baen."

"When do I leave Drottningu?"

"Queen Islanzadi has placed a few other men in charge of getting all the warriors safely to Gilead, while you and her will be accompanied by a smaller, more undetectable force a week or so later."

Vanir nodded his understanding. He stifled a yawn, signaling the healer to quickly shuffle out the princess and the Rider – respectfully, of course. The injured elf smiled a smug one and bid his friend a good day.

Opting to walk through the grounds on a beautiful day, Eragon, Arya, and Saphira strolled through the Varden's camp. For the first time in a long while, his back felt relaxed and unstressed. There was no constant pressure building up. He slipped his fingers through Arya's, marveling at how much comfort such a little action could give him.

"Arya, are you required in Gilead?" He voiced his concern – understanding she might be required to attend to such matters.

"Technically, yes. But with current situation here, I opted to stay and prepare for Belatona's march." She paused, collecting her thoughts before speaking, "My mother and Lord Däthedr will be enough to find the traitor."

Her voice shook with a certain anger Eragon knew was not to be trifled with.

"Arya…" He said her name soothingly, holding her hand tighter.

"There has not been an elven traitor in quite sometime, since the time the Forsworn were created at least. It is hard to imagine."

"We do not yet know the context. Perhaps the king discovered the elf's true name. There would have no choice but to follow the king's whims."

She visibly relaxed, hoping the theory to be true. Stopping in her tracks, she waited till Eragon stood in front of her. Glancing up at him, she noticed his eyebrow furrowed, but a smile still played on his lips. Gently capturing his lips, she curved her free hand around his neck, shifting her fingers in the little curls that greeted her fingers.

Pulling away gently, then quickly pressing her lips against his, she leaned back in his arms.

"Thank you for reducing my anger and calming my nerves. I seldom realize how I counter my temper, and the way seems to be you."

He smiled, stepping closer to embrace her. "I know you may think this undermines your ability and strength as a warrior, but I am glad that you are not going." Kissing the top of her head, he continued, "I cannot months at a time without you. I am not that strong Arya."

Her lips curved against his chest, a sign of a small smile, "As if I could stand that long without you. Three weeks sent me into a state of catatonic depression, a week sent me apathetic towards anything. And that too, in Gilead. I hardly think I could stand walking into that area, after being held prisoner and tortured there twice."

"Saphira and I would have rescued you had it happened again."

"I know, and that is not necessarily a good thing. It may not be an enemy you can defeat next time."

"There will not be a next time. I will not let that happen to you again. Twice was enough, twice was enough to send me seething in anger."

She took his hand once again, kissing his lips one last time and continued to walk.

"I believe we will leave later in the week. A few days to relax."

"And what, iet Drottningu, do you plan to do with these few days to relax?"

"Read a little, mediate, explore, wander around…those kinds of things."

She smiled as she felt his frown upon her. "What Eragon, did that list not seem enjoyable?"

"I am not going to lie and say I had other, more pleasurable things on my mind."

"Like?" Her voice changed from playful to husky in seconds.

"Oh you know," he bent closer to her ear, his lips skimming the edge, "sparring."

The tips of her ears turned red as she pushed him away. "You say pleasurable things, and then you say sparring. What am I to do with you?"

He obediently returned to her side, arm curving around her waist. He found himself in an easy smile, an easy laughter.

"I do hope you decide to keep me around a bit. At least you are guaranteed not to be bored."

She buried closer to his side, a thumb stroking over his hip bone.

"Forever, Eragon, Iet Shurtugal, I will keep you forever."

"I love you Arya, if I have neglected to tell you in a while, I love you, truly, completely, unconditionally."

His voice was laced with sincerity that sent her heart fluttering. How he sent her spiraling with his words, how he made her act like a teenager, she would never know.

"Eragon, I love you. I know I do not say it enough, but I do love you very much."

She felt his lips press against the top of her head.

"With you Arya, you never have to say the words, I feel your love for me. I, however, know that I do not do an adequate job of showing how much I love you."

"You do Eragon, you do more than you know."

"Then whatever I do is not enough."

"Even my skills in diplomacy seem to quail under your debating skills."

"I am talented with words."

"Or just stubborn."

He chuckled at her jest, "Or that."

The next few days passed in a blur, neither of the lovers knew how fast time went. They spent the days frolicking in the meadows, racing each other, swimming, flying, or just reading.

The last day before the march was upon them. Although it was less than ideal for Saphira to be walking on the ground, she opted to do so as encouragement for the Varden soldiers.

He was laying in the tall grass on the outskirts, his head resting comfortably on his mate's abdomen. His hand sought hers, and upon finding it, traced a pattern of a lily repeatedly. Her other hand buried itself in the soft curls on his, wrapping her fingers around the longer locks of hair.

Neither wanted to disturb the moment of peace, but that did not change others' view of it. it was not long until a messenger sent for them, asking that they get ready for the march that would take place in close to eighteen hours.


	12. Chapter 37  Belatona, we have a problem

Chapter 37: Belatona, we have a problem.

Although neither wanted to walk with the other men and women of the Varden, it was best for the morale. And so Eragon and Arya took an Elvin horse that her mother had left for Arya, packed their tents and bags and walked. Saphira was walking painfully slowly next to them, but enjoyed the praise the elves garlanded her with. If they knew anything about elves, it was that they were quite capable of praise to last many days, far more days than the march. Only the soldier and healer families were accompanying the march. The rest would follow, under Nasuada's order, after Belatona was taken. The plan was to cover close to ten leagues per day. The pace was grueling, but they could not squander time walking when Dras Leona was the intended target.

The scouts that went ahead reported the usual battlement preparations, nothing out of the ordinary. However they did describe Belatona's defenses as being rather weak. Nasuada, being the leader she was, thought it unusual and sent scouts on the a different pathway to see if the Empire's soldiers were coming to support the town, in which case, the entire siege would take on a different meaning. The Varden were the most vulnerable in their current state. A surprise attack could render them quite unusable with the right strength.

And then there were the elves in Gilead. A traitor among them is both powerful and dangerous. A traitor could be fed wrong information and then led to his own doom, or the traitor could bring the downfall of that entire city. If the Queen and her trusted council members did not find the man responsible…Eragon shuddered at the possible consequences.

"Do not fear so much iet Shurtugal."

Eragon raised his cerulean eyes to meet her emerald ones. Arya covered his hand with her own on the reins of the horse.

"They will find the traitor, and they will deal him the proper judgment."

The Rider nodded his understanding. It was a relief not to explain every single emotion, Arya simply knew what he felt and knew exactly how to counter the feeling. He could not think of a time when his mate's words did not bring into her world of light. He stared at her hand, amazed at how such a small part of her could bring him so much comfort. Eragon heard many men talk of how a woman would be their downfall or of how their partners wrapped them around their fingers and bent them at will. Arya was like that for him, he would do anything if she asked, and anything even if she did not ask. But she would never be his downfall, Arya made him stronger. He was a solid barrier with her, nothing could get past him, but even a few moments without her, he felt in danger, he felt vulnerable. As powerful as he was, he could never survive in a world where Arya was not with him.

Her presence in his mind increased as she surged through his senses. Her quiet, beautiful music resonated through his head, her love for him, her desire for him, her own need of him occupied any room for a sane thought. It was comforting to know that he was not the only one without the power to live with his mate. Yet he felt guilty. Arya loved him far more than he deserved, but if something were to happen to him, which, when facing the dark tyrant was more than likely, imagine how much pain she would go through on his account. Unbearable was the only word that came into his mind.

Arya's annoyance at his thoughts flashed.

_Eragon, know that I would rather spend an eternity in your memories than a life separated from your love. Your death is not something I enjoy discussing. However if you must know, I do not believe you will die. _

_How can you be so sure Arya? _

_Angela read my future, casting her dragon knuckles. _

_And? _

_She said I would live a long happy, very much loved, life. The war will end long before my death. Angela also said that I would be considering a very complete family in the next fifty or so years. _

_What did she say about your love life? _

Arya looked into his eyes, her own eyes kind and loving. It was an expression she often wore around him.

_Angela told me that the one I fall in love with would be both powerful and responsible. She told me his nobility ran farther than many alive today, including my own. A man of character and honor, but never arrogant. And she told me that he would love me far more than I could imagine. She told me that he would do anything to stay by my side, even come back from the clutches of death. _

_Can you imagine how much I love you? _

_No, I cannot. I feel your love for me, but I can never fathom its depths. It is something I have failed to measure. It is truly immeasurable. _

Eragon let go of the reins, giving full command of the horse to Arya. He walked around the intelligent beast, careful not to block its forward path, and laced his fingers with his princess's.

_I love you very much Arya. _

His effect on her was comical, it must have been the hundredth time he spoke those words to her, in her mind, wherever, but her heart never ceased to flutter and her soul never ceased to soar. Eragon kissed her hand lightly. Many men and women in their surroundings watched them intently. It was exasperating, but unavoidable. They usually kept their show of affection to a minimum in public, but even so the stares were rather unbecoming. Most of the elves had left before plans of the march, but Islanzadi, Vanir and ten other elves stayed behind. They would leave on the fourth day of the march. If all was according to schedule, Belatona would be attacked in fifteen days, and taken over in seventeen.

Some children ran around their feet, following in their father's much larger footsteps. The woman remained in large groups scattered here and there, talking of the pains of walking long distances, and the filth their husbands and children came home with. The familial conversations were familiar to Eragon, but not necessarily missed. For as long as he could remember it was Garrow, Roran, and him. He was the odd one out in a way. The only one who did not have such a family to worry about him.

"You have a family Eragon."

The Rider smiled at her, she was right again. He had a family, it may not have been like these other families he witnessed, but he had one. He had a father whose actions he looked to for guidance. A mother who he knew loved him. A brother who sacrificed himself for the greater good. And he had a mate and a dragon who loved him just as immeasurably. Who was he to wallow in what he never had, when he had at that moment was far better, far more beautiful.

The Varden had been walking for nearly six hours since morning. It was noon now, and they had made good progress, but there were still a long ways to go. They had started their walk past the bulk of the summer heat. Early September was the date Belatona would be taken, then in November, Dras Leona, and Helgrind would be destroyed.

Helgrind, he killed the Razac that resided there, but the slavery was of a different matter. Children being separated from their families, young woman and adolescent girls being forced to 'service' their masters, while the others endured constant abuse even though they had successfully completed each and every of their tasks. Tokenbrand was only one of many slavers, and in his opinion, he deserved what Murtagh dealt him.

Arya gripped his hand tighter, the horrors of such a place was something even she was saved from seeing. The stories she had heard, the free flow of blood, the decapitated heads and body parts on a daily basis…she shuddered at the thought. It was sickening… everything about it. Just a mere thought was enough to raise bile to her mouth. Helgrind was a place she would rather see destroyed than ever step foot in.

A call from the front lines sounded for a break from walking, no doubt the weary complaints of no food getting to the leaders. Fires sprung up from various places as the usual stew was made.

The elves made their own arrangements, packing and picking various herbs, vegetables, and fruits for their meal. Since Eragon's transformation, he also stopped eating meat except in dire circumstances. If he could help it, he would not, but his survival was more important than a clean diet.

Sensing a break, the Elvin horse promptly took a seat in front of Eragon and Arya. He was a handsome horse, the Rider decided, quite well built, and very intelligent.

"Arya?"

The princess took a seat on the fallen log next to him, both were not that hungry and opted for a piece of fruit over a large meal. She took his hand in hers, and placed their intertwined on his right thigh.

"What is it?"

"The horse's name. What is it?"

"Pelean. He is one of the few horses left in our stables back in Tialdari Hall. Most of the horses were lead away to battle or are in Gilead. Since I had no horse here, my mother thought it best that he accompany me."

"He is a fine horse, good endurance, built for speed. Pelean will be a powerful battle horse."

She sighed, glancing at her mate, "I do not think I will use him for battle purposes. I am not accustomed to fighting from horseback, and I would rather not put him in such situations."

The princess rested her weary head on his shoulder. It was not out of physical tiredness that she often grew tired, but out of mental exhaustion. Most of her life was spent in a war rather than out of it, and it chipped at her stamina. She was, literally, tiring of wars and battles.

"Tell me something beautiful Eragon."

"I wish the sun would never set for then I would never have to lose sight of your beautiful face at night. I wish the moon would never leave the sky for then I would lose sight of the bright light illuminating nothing but you in my eyes. I wish the rain would never stop for then I would see the clear drops cascading around your body, making you an ethereal being. Iet Drottningu, I wish time would stop for then I could truly live in every moment with you."

If there was a tear in her eye, it remained unshed. In the spur of the moment her mate could say the most beautiful of praises. He sealed his wish with a kiss on top of her head. There was nothing lustful about his words. Nothing demanding, he never expected something in return for his words. It was simply how he truly felt, and how he truly felt never ceased to amaze her. It was the true, purest type of love she knew.

The horn sounded and the people around them scampered about to clean their surroundings. They would need to continue walking. The Elvin princess placed her lips firmly across her mate's cheek before lifting herself up and calling Pelean to her. The great Sapphire dragon had ceased her fun with the small children, but her Rider still remained close to her side.

The next hours passed in a comfortable silence, there was nothing much to be discussed. Eragon often caught himself staring at Arya. Even after all this time, all those times he made love to her or her to him, all those chaste kisses shared, all those times when they lay in each other's arms, or shared a laugh, or even a knowing smile seemed unreal to him. He could not believe he had reached his star, could not fathom that Fate was giving enough for his greatest gift – Arya's love.

An adrenaline rush released in his body, something was wrong.

_Saphira, what do you see? _

_Empire soldiers. They are close by, heading our direction. We must make haste to shelter. _

Eragon ran to the head of the march, "Nasuada! Empire soldiers are on their way. Saphira sighted them, we need to get the people to safety."

The Varden leader jumped into action, she yelled orders to hurry the pace of the women and children. There was a large hill to the side of the Spine, they would hide themselves there with a few soldiers to hold guard. The others would remain to face the soldiers.

"Get them to safety! Quickly!"

The Rider inhaled the air. Arya was approaching him, her pleasant, heaven like pine cone scent engulfing him. But there was something more to that, something unpleasant. The sweat and grime of the Empire soldiers filled his nostrils in a sickly smell. They were nearing, and there were fast.

It was utter chaos around him, women and children were crying out in panic, racing as fast as their bodies could carry them to the back of the hill.

_Saphira, can we attack them first?_

_No, the forest is too thick for flying. I will have to burn it down if we want to attack by air. _

_They chose the correct path. _

_Brace yourself, they will be here within minutes_

"How long do we have?"

Arya's blade was drawn, seeking droplets of enemy blood. Her eyes were fiery and fearsome, capable to terrifying the strongest of enemies.

"Two minutes. They are coming fast."

"How many?"

"A small party, close to fifty."

Eragon pressed his ear to the ground, at the pace the soldiers were continuing at, their muscles and feet would be burning with the cuts on the undersides by now…unless they were the soldiers without pain.

"Your suspicions are right." Eragon dreaded as such. "They, indeed, do not feel pain."

The Rider yelled the information to the nearest messenger, sending the boy racing towards the leader of the Varden.

_Commander Alinor? _

_What is it Shadeslayer? _

_These are soldiers without pain, a group of fifty. Take your company of elves and stand at front. Saphira cannot attack them from where she is. It runs the risk of breaking her wings or burning the forest. If we wait for a open patch, then they will be far too close. _

_Very well Shadeslayer, we are moving their now. _

Eragon drew his sword, his armor was still packed away…not the most opportune, but it was unavoidable.

"Arya…"

The Elvin princess turned her head towards her mate, afraid of what he might say.

"Arya, I do not think this will be the last of these attacks."

His suspicions were usually right, no matter how unfortunate that was. For some reason, he had a knack of getting into his enemy's mind and dissected every action and course there after.

"They will split up, a force like this is not designed to destroy the army, but destroy morale. They will attack the women and children first, and the closest way is to the sides where Commander Alinor and his men are. But something is not right. They would have known that the hills would provide support. They are coming by some other means…"

The Rider glanced around, finding potential routes of their attacks.

"The river…" His voice turned pale, frightened almost.

"Arya!" Eragon turned with an almost frantic look on his face, "The elves, make them come to the edge of the river bank, that is where they will attack with the most men, those others will stay by the northern front. Hurry we do not have time."

The princess sprang into action, within minutes the positions were redone. And sure enough, across the foggy mist came the view of hostile boats. Arya crouched as Saphira flew overhead, easily lighting the boats on fire with her own deadly power, but the water was shallow enough, the men jumped off and ran the rest of the distance towards the shore.

Screams from the other side confirmed his suspicions of their attack being a distraction to the larger, much more concealed force in front of him. A wordless blaze of his blade sprung his feet into action, slicing the nearest soldier's head off. There would be no cutting or hacking today, these men had an uncanny ability not to die. Instead, it would all be decapitation, it was the only way these men could be stopped from moving. Eragon parried the blows between two men, ending somewhat in the middle of their fray. He bent his knees, coming upward with a force known to only the stronger of elves and ended the miserable life of one Empire soldier, before repeating the same to the other.

The force was nearly gone, split forty and ten against an entire company of well energized elves was a suicide mission, even for Galbatorix. Orrin's men and Halton's men did well, the dwarves stayed by the women and children, need be that they move on quickly to safety.

What was the point of such a mission, surely Galbatorix had a better idea of the Varden's numbers? Eragon knew for a fact that the dark tyrant did, the papers with the scholar he had killed proved it so.

Unless…

"Arya, have Nasuada recheck the numbers of who all is here, all dead need to be accounted for."

The Elvin princess laid a hand on his cheek, "Eragon, what is wrong?"

"I believe both these attacks were distractions, one to cover another. He is intelligent, iet Drottningu, he would never send a company of fifty men, split them into weaker forces against companies of elves and humans. The sheer number does not work. Unless the king wanted something else to go unnoticed, another infiltration in the ranks of the Varden. Another traitor. As of some days ago, the traitor was in the Varden, but he or she had to flee to Gilead for some other, higher purpose…leaving the king blind to the actions of the Varden once more."

"And so the king used another distraction, and a distraction upon a distraction, to lead us away from thinking that we do indeed have another traitor in our mists."

"We need the actual numbers to confirm our suspicions."

The Rider raced towards the leader, explaining her in a quiet, frantic way why the count was necessary. Nasuada sprang into action, commanding the soldiers to account for their families and report to the original number, while the commanders lined up the Varden in small groups and counted themselves.

It was night when the procedures were over, there would be little walking that day.

"Shadeslayer, Ambassador…" The Lady Nightstalker's voice was hard, cold, angry. "Your suspicions were correct, we do indeed have one extra is our midst."

"Whoever it is could be listening in to our conversation right now."

Eragon turned towards the voice…Commander Alinor. He always provided a fresh perspective, a logical one. One the Rider trusted.

"If we look closer to the numbers, we can see that we do not have an extra number of soldiers, or extra members in a family. Therefore, we can assume that whoever this one is, is a magician, capable of holding barriers quite well. Since no one claimed him or her, we can say that the infiltrator is here without prior obligations…suppose a family."

A new fear instilled in Eragon.

"Wait Commander. The king is not so blind to think that we would not notice his rash actions, and neither is he so unintelligent to think that we would not make a second count and discover that this loner has no family and is not a soldier. Therefore, the man who came into our ranks came with a very specific purpose, and did not require much time to fulfill it."

Jarsha came barging in the door, his breath raggedy, hard pressed.

"Shadeslayer…your cousin…he is…he is…dying…they cannot stop the bleeding. Attacked from the back…he had no…warning."

"Jarsha?" Eragon's voice was surprisingly calm, "Where is he?"

"Near the river bank, not two miles from here."

The Rider took off running, he signaled to Saphira and jumped on her back without much time. The great dragoness sped through the air, cutting the time nearly in quarters with her speed. Eragon wasted little time with landing, instead he jumped from the safest height directly where he saw Roran's body.

Carn was sitting next to him, at a loss for words on what to do.

"Carn, move, let me see the damage."

His voice was strong, confident, authoritative. The man had little choice but to obey the Rider's commands.

Roran was unconscious, the blade was stuck deep in his lung, puncturing it nearly completely. He was nearly dead, but he had a pulse, faint but there. The Rider pushed his cousin on the side, and pulled the blade out in one fast movement. The bleeding started again. Using extensive spells, Eragon stopped the bleeding, afraid his cousin had already lost too much, and then worked on reconstructing the lung. The damage…something he had never seen before. The concentration required to heal such a wound was unnerving, and with the drain in energy with the amount and the time Eragon spent was significantly larger that what was anticipated.

_Saphira…_

_I am here Eragon. _

At once he felt her strength pour into his body, and he continued the work. The lung was repaired, along with the tissue, but the blood loss was great. Using his dragon's strength, Eragon muttered some spell to increase the speed of blood production in his cousin's body. There was nothing more he could do, it was up to Roran whether to live or die. There was no more strength or energy Eragon could put into his work.

He got up, and unused to the sensation of feeling weak, he stumbled over himself. Preparing himself for the fall, he stiffened his body, but it never came. Eragon found himself held up by the soft hands of his mate. Her scent of pinecones brought him back from the depths of unconsciousness. He opened his eyes, the love for her filling his senses, giving him some measure of strength back…and he was back on his feet.

"Thank you Arya." She looked at him confusedly for a moment, but decided to ask him later about his gratitude. Eragon lifted Roran into Saphira's saddle, ordering Carn to get the men back to the Varden. Carn told him that the person who did this was a woman, close to her thirties. Roran had no warning, just a blade in his back before she left and disappeared into the fog across the stream.

Arya hopped up behind him, holding her mate tightly…a more than worried expression on her face.

Saphira jumped into the air, her wings capturing the more than ample wind. She landed near the medical tent, and soon Roran was being transported there. Fluids were being injected into his body. A messenger told Katrina what had happened, and she, as fast as she could in her pregnant state, made her way over to the medical tent. Nearly dropping from sheer tiredness with running in her pregnant state, Katrina fell into Eragon's arms.

"Katrina, there is no need to fear. We have done all we can. He is stable, and he will regain consciousness soon. He is in a coma from the trauma his body has endured."

Her eyes were filled with tears, her ears understood the words, but there was no comprehension. Eragon led her through the tent and placed her down by Roran's side.

"Stay with him tonight."

A slight nod forced Eragon away from the scene. He gently grasped Arya's hand, leading her away from the place, more for himself than hers. He could not look back…Eragon knew better than most why Roran was targeted. The Rider stood outside the medical tent, his gaze on Saphira.

_Little one…do not dwell on this issue longer than has to be. Roran will be fine in the morning. _

Tears forced him to blink a few times. Sensing his discomfort, Arya slowly turned herself to face him, capturing the unshed tears with her lips. She brought a hand to the side of his face, gently caressing his cheek while the other wrapped around the nape of his neck and forced him to her.

His hands were shakily wrapped around her, growing stronger as he buried his head in her neck. Arya's hand ran through his hair, soothing and comforting him. Saphira's wing engulfed them both, and they soon found themselves close to her warm belly, protected by her cover.

Attempting to move his mind away from the recent attack on his cousin, Arya voiced what beguiled her.

"Eragon, love, why did you thank me when I caught you?"

He stared at her, confusion written on his features, "You gave the energy to stand back up, and lift Roran into the saddle."

"Iet Shurtugal, I did no such thing. All I did was catch your fall and then you stood back up on your own. I assumed Saphira gave you strength, but I gave you no energy."

His eyebrow furrowed as he glanced questioningly from Saphira to Arya.

"I do not understand, Saphira was helping me through the entire time, I do not know where the energy could have come from?"

_Eragon – finarel? It seems I am needed again. _

_Glaedr-ebirthil. It is truly good to hear your voice. Do you understand what happened? _

_Yes, I do, I should not but I do. What is the main emotion you felt when healing Roran?_

…_Fear, fear that he would die. _

_Yes indeed. And that emotion weakened your ability. Emotions are an interesting phenomena of the mind. Anger, happiness, love, ecstasy, adrenaline, anticipation, excitement are all stimulating emotions, they give energy. Fear, sadness, depression, boredom, all those take away energy. Now, as a normal magic user, that does not affect the strength one has, however the Grey Folk have a deeper connection to it. They, by pure emotion, were able to bring magic into the world, and therefore they are constantly affected by the change in their emotion. Your fear depleted your energy, and your overuse of your depleted energy caused you to be weak. These emotions only affect when using magic, everyday life, you do not pay attention to your magic stockpile. However, when you saw Arya, your fear was quickly replaced with your overwhelming love for her, and therefore, you gained your energy back. _

_Thank you ebirthil. That explains many of my actions as of late. _

_Good night finarel, Drottningu, Saphira. _

The great conscious faded from their minds as quickly as it came.

"Both you and Saphira are more my strength that I could ever know."

Saphira hummed in response, her long snout touching his brow.

_Sleep little ones. I will watch over you and your loved ones tonight. _

Eragon laid a mattress next to Saphira's warm belly. Fixing the corners so it was straight, he felt two soft arms hold him from behind. Arya's head rested in his shoulder blades, her chest tight against his back.

_Iet evarínya nuanen, what is it? _

He turned in her embrace, his arms coming to envelope her.

"You are my strength as well."

That simple statement could wreck havoc on his mind. He picked her up easily in his arms, and laid her down close to Saphira's warm belly. Gently raising her head up, he brought his face dangerously close to hers, his hands skimmed her cheek, savoring the feel of the soft skin on his hand.

"Iet Drottningu, it has come to my attention that I have not kissed you this entire day."

She smiled at him, her nose playfully nudging his, "The day is not yet over."

Arya glanced to his eyes before falling down to his lips. In a quick short motion, she closed her eyes and brought her lips to his. His hands would be her undoing, they roved, traveled, caressed her body until she was writhing underneath them. And he was not even touching her skin, just the leather she usually wore. Eragon smiled against her lips, enjoying her reaction.

"Sleep Eragon, we need to sleep." Her voice was breathy, forced as she tried to calm herself down.

A sheepish look entered his face, but nothing remorseful was about it. He placed his lips over hers one last time and curved his body around hers, his arm a steel band across her waist. The tip of his nose and lips skimming across her ear and jaw. These few moments they had in each other's arms were cherished by both.

Arya awoke early the next morning, the sounds of the hustling and bustling of the medical tents muffled, but still large enough to stir her Elvin senses. The arm around her was still firm, surprisingly. How her mate could still be asleep and have such a strong, protective grip she would never know. She turned in his arms, facing him rather than feeling his strong chest engulfing her.

He was smiling in his sleep, a small curve of his lips playing on his mouth. The princess ran a finger down his face, over the bridge of his nose, catching his bottom lip, the center of his chin. Her mate had a remarkably beautiful face. Handsome was too…insipid of a word to even describe the beauty in his face. No longer did the boy reside in his face as it had even as close as six months ago. His face was growing older, aging to its maximum. Here with his eyes closed, he looked nearly in his middle twenties, the lines of worry settled on his face during these stormy times. And when his eyes opened, even older. Eragon was always handsome. Even when he was a boy she admired his looks, perhaps that was why she spent time with him, although she usually kept to herself. Perhaps even before he loved her, she lusted…imperceptibly, of course, for him. It amazed her…how quickly a small spark turned into love.

_What are you looking at? _

Eragon was awake, and had been for sometime since Arya had awoken. Her caress on his face had brought him fully to his senses, but he remained still, savoring the feel of his mate's attention.

_You. _

He smiled wider, a display of his white teeth coming through.

_What do you see? _

_You. _

Arya ran her hand over his face once again.

_I cannot describe you. _She whispered the words in his mind, obviously frustrated with her lack of ability to express what she saw. Arya, such a diplomat, able to cross bridges between four races, yet cannot even describe her mate.

The Rider opened his eyes, concern for her thoughts evident in his eyes. He laid her flat against the thin mattress, his arm ran up and down her side, and his other hand caressed her cheek, cupping it, his thumb stroking her face.

He looked at her, his eyes constantly searching her emerald ones for the cause of such unnecessary thoughts.

"What is it Arya?"

Her voice was small, pained almost. "I cannot describe you Eragon. I cannot describe what I feel around you, or you. You are many things, sometimes just one. And sometimes you are just you. I cannot…I will never be able to put your description in words."

He rolled over so he lay more fully on top of her. His finger tracing her lower lip, he kissed her once. "Arya." His voice filled with love and concern. He kissed her again, his kisses short, a brief pressure against her lips.

"Iet gedwey fëon, why are you distressing over this?"

"What am I to say when someone asks me what you are like?" She looked away, embarrassed by her inability. Two gently fingers forced her chin straight, and her eyes back into his cerulean ones.

"Does it matter?" She moved her mouth to protest, but he continued, "I can never describe what you mean to me without using the word everything at least four to five times. It is something trivial. Why are you truly distressing about this?"

Her answer was honest, it broke his heart.

"I have never been this afraid for someone before. What if it had been you the blade went through? And I could not get there in time…This will not be last assassin the king will send. These few moments we have together, I want to spend them capturing exactly how much you mean to me."

"Arya…" His voice was deep, husky, whispering a promise he knew well of. "I will not die so soon. I promised you Arya, that I would be there when you woke up in the morning. That is one promise I have intended to keep since the time I made it. Roran survived, even if I might be attacked later on, I have a good chance of surviving."'

"You speak as if an attack was inevitable." Her voice held an uncommon bite in it.

"Not inevitable, probable. There has been an attempt on your life, now Roran's, and most likely mine very soon."

"I will not lose you Eragon."

"And I will not be lost to you either."

"You cannot leave me Eragon. I will follow you, no matter where I must go."

"Arya! Do not be rash." There was a bite in his voice, a hard reprimand of the notion of following him in death.

Her renowned Elvin fury was becoming tampered with, how dare he think her thoughts reckless?

"Do not call me rash Eragon! What do expect me to do without you? Tell me that if Saphira was never alive, tell me that you would not follow me, even in death."

He remained silent.

"Eragon, I am not cut out for a relationship where you can be taken away from me at any moment. This…incident has proven such. I cannot leave you, that is not even in question." The princess looked away, ashamed with her feelings. "I do not even know what I am trying to say Eragon. Do you see…see how this attempt has thrown me into such a state of emotional distress? I feel childlike in my emotions, and I cannot control them."

"You fear for me."

Of course that was it. Fear, the simple, childlike, unjustifiable response for a little incident out of the ordinary. She feared for her mate's life. Arya had never feared for something before. Perhaps as a child, but nothing now. She took death as a part of life, depression yes, at what she could lose, but never fear. It was a frightening notion, that she loved him so strongly that she broke from her mindset of accepting a bad hand to cheating and bluffing her way around to having a better outcome. The bad hand here – her mate was the only one capable of defeating a tyrant that dominated over Alagaesia for nearly ninety some years. Arya accepted that one day she might be once again left alone in a world, left with the only memories of one she loved. But slowly, she had come to believe that the First Rider of the New Order would never leave her side – a whole new world of happiness engulfing her instantaneously.

And now, she was ruthlessly pulled from that matrix surrounding her. The reality of the last murder attempt bursting whatever dream cloud she resided in. It did not take a tiger to kill the wolf…a smart rabbit able to jump onto a tree while the wolf fell to its death would do the trick. It did not have to be a Shade occupied by over a hundred spirits to end her mate's life, a small woman with a hand barely able to grasp a sword was enough.

As it is, Eragon was far too trusting with his life. His innocence constantly pulled him to see the good in others, assume the best in stranger next to him. Admirable for one who had been betrayed, whose life had been created by one of the biggest betrayals in history of Alagaesia. Morzan's to his father. At the same time, naïve for one who had been the center of so many betrayals.

He loved too much, he gave too much power to those he loved, and he loved many. She and Saphira would never take advantage of him. But to those who had the Rider at their last priority…he would be taken advantage of. He was strong, strong hearted, strong spirited, strong minded. But far too kind. The kind of strength he had was often coupled with a certain ruthless behavior that was clearly not evident in him.

"Arya."

His voice brought her out of her thoughts.

"Stop thinking like this. Nothing, no one, no woman with a blade, no assassin, no king, and no fate will take me from you. As much as you want me next to you, I want to be next to you as well. I will fight from the gates of death to come back to you. I have fought through the gates of time, magic, and morality to get back to you. Why do you fear my loss so much?"

"Because it is unbearable."

Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes, she bit her lip in an attempt to stop the next. But he had already seen. Skimming her temple, he removed every trace of her distress with his lips. He let the salty water touch his tongue, savoring the taste of pinecones that somehow leaked through her hot tears as well.

_Arya, a wise man once told me that our lives are wasted on thinking about what has happened and what has yet to happen. We cannot change the past and we cannot know the future. What we do have is the ability to control our decisions every waking moment we have. Here is my decision for you Arya. As of here, as of right now, my decision is to love you with all my heart, my soul, my body, my everything. Whatever I have, I will love you with. I will love you for as long as time goes on, and I will try my best to stay with you for your entire, eternal life. My father told me before he died that yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today…today is a gift, and that is why it is called the present. _

"I know that is far from what you want to hear, but I will ensure that I take better care of myself. I will be more cautious, tread more carefully, and be more aware of my surroundings. As much as I seem to accept whatever fate will deal me, I have just as strong conviction to spend the rest of my eternal side by yours, with our family."

She merely held his head closer to hers, inhaling his ocean scent before they readied themselves for the day.

The next days passed on with little occurrence. Roran had completely recovered with the magicians replenishing whatever fluids he had lost. He was not doing much walking either, he and Katrina rode a horse with the march. The entire Varden was on a high alert. Eragon wondered if it was because of a lack of attempts or an abundance of discouraged attempts that left the Varden safe from any other attacks.

He had discussed briefly with Roran, about the possibility of going into hiding for the remainder of the war. That idea, motivated by the constant guilt of his cousin being targeted because of him, was quickly dismissed. He thought back to their conversation.

"_Roran, I do not think you should lead the soldiers in battle any longer." _

"_What are you talking about Eragon? I am still quite a capable warrior." _

_The Rider sighed, it would be a long conversation with his cousin. _

"_The assassin panicked Roran, and she missed your heart. Had she stabbed you there, I would never have been able to stop the bleeding fast enough. You have a family to think about now, Katrina is expecting soon. You should go, take refuge in some small town, stop fighting. It is safer. The last thing I wanted was you getting hurt because of me." _

_Roran's face was crushed into a scowl. His anger radiated off of him, and he was made no notion to contain it. _

"_Do not, for one moment, even think that this war means nothing to me. It killed my father remember. It captured and tortured my wife! She still gets nightmares because of it! I am fighting for myself, cousin." He nearly spat the word at him. "You do not need to protect me! You do not ever need to protect me!" _

"_Roran, I only-" _

"_The time for protecting me was before my father died by the hands of your mistakes." _

_Saphira reared on her hind legs, knocking Roran to the ground. Her teeth bared at him, her breath hot and fiery on his face. _

"_Nestmate of my Rider, that is the last insult you will ever speak to him. Eragon tried to come back, but I prevented it! An insult like that is insulting me – the most powerful creature to walk this world. Know this Stronghammer, I would have gladly repeated my actions. My Rider's life means more to me than this entire world! Your meaning to me is even more miniscule than that." _

"_Saphira…please let him up. His words are justified at me, never you." _

_Eragon turned to his cousin, "I know you have a lot to be angry for, I have more to be angry for. I cannot change the past, I only desire to make a better future. If you believe you will be fine, then stay and fight. I have no power to stop your free will." _

_He turned and walked away, back to Arya, back to his position among the people in the center. Saphira let up his cousin and took to the skies, jarring and covering Roran in dust. _

The Rider sighed at the memory, it was nearly two days since that incident, two days since he had even spoken to his cousin. Life was bad enough, losing people to death, and now even familial disagreements threatened to rip his family from him.

"Hush, do not think about it. He will see his mistake in time."

The melodious voice of a princess rarely captured his attention, except for this Elvin Princess. Other women of nobility, try as they may, could never mimic the utter beauty and poetic brilliance of Arya's. She was royalty in blood, but her royalty ran deeper than that. She was royal in her smile, her laugh, her voice, her ability, her everything, she was simply a cut above the rest.

To his utter dismay, he realized that once again, he had yet to respond to her comment. It was often the case with her. She would say something and he would be so absorbed in her that he would forget to respond. Why she put up with him, he would have no idea.

"I do not mind his anger, iet Drottningu. As much as I wish it was not the case, Roran is set in his ways, and in his emotions. Whether or not he forgives me, I do not care. I only wish for his safety. His words, however, are true to an extent. Luckily, I have already made peace with the knowledge that my mistakes are fatal."

He grasped her hand lightly, smoothing over the surface of her palm, tracing the lines on her hands. Eragon no longer needed to see her hand to find them, they were ingrained in his mind.

"I care for him Arya, I love him a great deal, but not as much as I love you or Saphira. And Roran is the same way, he loves Katrina and his unborn child more than me. In a few days he will realize that I am not worth the guilty nagging he feels everyday and he will either apologize or perhaps he will not feel any nagging and let it go. Either way, however, I will continue to look out for him as I used to."

A mischievous glint entered his eyes, "Now your anger, iet nuanen, is something I care very deeply about."

"My anger? Shurtugal, I doubt I have been angry with you much this past time."

"Really? In that case I should strive to make you more angry with me in the future."

Arya furrowed her eyebrows at his deadpan comment, "To what purpose?"

A hint of laughter crept into his voice, "I find you unbelievably attractive when you are angry."

A raised eyebrow silenced the laughter, but not before a rather unintelligent comment, "Are you angry?"

The princess flexed her jaw, trying hard not to give in to the laughter than threatened to spill over from within her.

"Eragon, what am I to do with you? I cannot bring myself to stay angry for very long, and neither can I bring myself to stay away from you for very long."

A tightened hand on her own brought her attention back to him. His voice turned strained, pained almost, in its attempt to understand her words, "Do you wish to, Arya?"

Her response was quick, thoughtless, the first words that came to her mind.

"Never Eragon, I could not, and even if I could, I would not part with you. Many may look upon this as weakness, but I see only the strength you have given me, nothing more. I have never wished to stay away from you, and doubt I will in the future."

"Sometimes, iet Drottningu, I have trouble believing this is real. That Saphira is next to you, that you are with me…it almost seems to good to be true. I am afraid that one day I will wake and discover that I am nothing more than a common man on the streets of Carvahall."

"You could never be common Eragon – especially not to me."

Her words, limited as they were, provided the solace she wanted them too. It was never her intention to bring about these seeds of doubt, but if her words quelled them, then perhaps they were not so bad. Arya glanced at her surroundings. The air was already moister from the presence of such a large lake, and with the sun heating down on them, the air turned cooler with the evaporated water.

_Little ones, we are getting closer. I can see the town of Belatona from here. They are not for battle, they will never be for battle. _

Eragon merged his mind with Saphira's, the contentment and happiness over their shared link magnanimous. She was indeed right. Belatona was protected by craftsmen, not soldiers. They were relying on the Empire's few soldiers that stood guard. Perhaps a few hundred were in the city. Innocents would die in the battle, those forced to serve. If there was another way…perhaps Belatona could be taken by infiltration instead of siege. The soldiers would be given more time to rest for Dras – Leona, where a fully fledged battle was inevitable, and innocents would be saved.

He glanced past the city, looking over the large lake the city stood proudly over. It provided peace and anticipation. Water was always a source of solace. Running water, the sound of the ocean, waves and streams hitting rocks calmed him. But he knew that on the other side of the lake stood Kuasta, the town his father and his father before him hailed from. Kuasta…a town of superstitions, unusual beliefs, and an even more mysterious background. It could provide answers to unanswered questions, and perhaps even more than that. But now was not the time. Kuasta served no purpose in the battle, it was safely hidden on the other side of the Spine successfully preventing it from effective rule from the Varden and the Empire. It would be there whenever Eragon summoned the courage to delve deep within his family history.

"You miss him, do you not?"

Brom was always a different sort of man. You missed his ways, his voice, his guiding light, but somehow never him. Eragon came to terms with Brom's death, however, he rarely wished the man were here with him. Missed him…no. He loved him, cared for him, mourned him, but never missed him. Eragon missed his father, he missed the man he never met, only spoke a few words to in the cave of the Grey Folk. He missed that man, not Brom. Brom, he could do without, his father however, was not so easy to forget.

It was as if Brom had two different personalities. Brom from Carvahall, and Brom his father. He often found himself addressing Brom as Brom when speaking about the times before his death, and his father when referring to times after his discovery.

He did not have to speak any more. Arya already knew the thoughts that ran through his head, and she silenced them by a mere shove of her mind.

"Shadeslayer! We make camp here. If we go too long, we run the risk of unprotected fields."

He glanced around after giving his agreement. They were still in a relatively foresty, mountainy area, but they would not make it in time to start the siege on Belatona before night fell. Meaning they would camp in the middle of open fields, and one fire anywhere could easily destroy their entire plan. Not to mention, Eragon did not want to siege the city.

The Rider made his way to the council's tent, it was a habit as the days to the battle grew nearer. Arya was close behind him, but Saphira remained where she was, leaving the place to hunt for a last meal before the war.

There were shouts of protest, indignant cries coming from the tent. Uncharacteristic for anytime of the day. They opened the flap and walked through.

"We cannot change plans this late! We can see the city!"

The dwarven leader, Chief Freowin was rather adamant of his views. He was a pompous leader, that was for certain.

"Change of plans must go hand in hand with the situation Chief, you know that better than most."

General Huvin's attempts were wasted on the angry dwarf's mind, he would listen to no reason.

"If I may, Saphira and I have seen the city."

Nasuada glanced at him, grateful for a moment of silence and an even sounding voice. She nodded and he began.

"The city is not prepared for battle. They have no soldiers, only craftsmen wielding pitchforks. Any attack would be slaughter of innocents. I will admit, I believed the city to be better defended than the several hundred or so foot soldiers that have no indication of being manipulated to feel no pain. These are the soldiers common to every Empire city. Belatona, I believe, is like Feinster, where the leader was sworn to the King, and therefore must dance on his whims. A smaller infiltration party will be better served than a battle. Any battle will tire our soldiers for Dras-Leona, and that is too dangerous for we know that Dras Leona will be the most difficult battle as it is the King's last city besides his capital and the center of the economic prosperity of the Empire as well. I do not think Galbatorix will come there, but there is no doubt he will send many reinforcements to his economic capital. Belatona, on the other hand, only requires the leader to be subdued, and then the entire town will turn in our favor. Strategically and logically, we cannot waste time rebuilding a city we know we need to use. We should protect the innocent people, the economy of it as much as we can, as it will be vital to our growth as the Varden."

"I see no reason not to attack the city this way. Can anyone think of any?" Nasuada was quite relieved that no one contradicted Eragon's infallible logic, it was a relief in itself. Her question remained uncontested.

Seeing the city horribly defended and still attacking was not something the Varden leader wanted on her conscious, especially after her past. She was a small child when the Empire came their way. Galbatorix had found a way to cross the Hadarac to her small, undefended town. They begged for mercy, they had no weapons, and yet he had attacked. Her mother died protecting her, taking the flames from his brutal black dragon, and Ajihad had fled, a full waterskin in his hand, straight to the Beor Mountains where he believed water and nutrients to be. He was a beast of a man, strong and proud, killing a Nagra with his bare hands, and creating a fire to cook the meat to sustain Nasuada and himself. It was then Hrothgar had found him and seeing his strength took him in. Since then, he quickly rose in the ranks of the Varden and took position of it at the age of twenty five. He knew Brom well, by letters and conversations in the water. They respected each other, and then they both lost their lives in a relatively short time from one another.

"Shadeslayer, find the men you would like to take and start by nightfall. If you find resistance, do not hesitate to be rid of it, I shall see you when you get back."

Eragon took his team of ten, Arya was of course with him, Saphira, was of course not. Her big blue, yet beautiful body would alert the entire Belatona that the attack had commenced. She opted to stay close by, able to fly within a moment's notice. Blodhgarm came with him, along with a few other of the Elvin body guard. Nar Garzvhog was the obvious next choice, Commander Alinor, and General Huvin came along. Although General Halton was fit, he was getting older, and so Eragon took Marcus, his second in command with him instead. He had a nice fit of dwarves, elves, Urgals and humans. And whatever he was he did not know.

The moon had barely risen when they started their journey, they walked masked by the falling night closer and closer to the unsuspecting city. They wore black, blending in perfectly with the lightless area they sauntered in.

_Shadeslayer, I found an entrance. _

Eragon walked to where the Urgal and Alinor were standing, it was water system entrance. The fresh water from the lake entered through this place. He nodded silently and used Brisingr to cut swiftly through the metal bars. Arya was behind him as he led the small party through. They heard voices above them, but not nearly loud enough for alarm. They kept walking until they came across a darkened hole in the wall. Removing the metal bars from here, the Rider lifted himself up, holding his hand to lift the others as well.

They moved silently towards the light: voices stopped their pursuit, silence continued it. Eragon saw the scene change and the lighted hallways became more and more frequent. He stopped, guards were heading their way. If they kept silent, they would remain undiscovered. But that was not the be the case, General Halton's second in command was rather jumpy, and his small movement forward jarred a rock into the water, a loud and resounding splash.

_Damn_, the voices were heading closer.

"What was that?"

"I don' know Edward, we should get some help."

"Nah, come on, its probably just another nosy rat that's all. Better we check it first."

Eragon docked an arrow in his bow and took aim, he would have a little chance to kill him, and even so, he ran the risk of watchers. The guard called Edward stepped around the corner into the darker tunnels, and his eyes widened, he saw the arrow, straight and sure penetrate his skull.

"My God, attack! We are under attack!"

The Rider knew it, but there was no other choice. It was either become discovered with one man out of the way, or become discovered with another man in the way. He gave the signal to his team, the narrow hallways would be ideal for their size, they could never become surrounded. Drawing Brisingr noiselessly he ran towards the growing screams of men, and began the assault.

They cut through their greeters, easily, with little thought. It was not these lives he wished to spare, only the lives of the women and children and men who did nothing to deserve death. These men were soldiers of the Empire, these men he was prepared to fight from the beginning, these men, he had killed from the beginning. The next moments seemed a blaze for him. He was physically there, but not mentally. He was perfect in his dreamlike state, his arms going through the motions of a well rehearsed dance, but his mind was elsewhere.

The soldiers he was fighting were not particularly strong or skilled, they were average warriors with an average level of everything. Easy for the group he had with him.

Screams echoed around the halls, but the small force continued forward, their time and patience ever stronger than before.

_Shadeslayer!_

Commander Alinor's voice brought him out of his daze.

_What is it? _

_We can hold off the soldiers for you, we must find and rid the leader of Belatona here. _

_Very well. Arya, Blodhgarm, come with me to find the leader. _

Sending their agreement through the link, they parted with the rest of the group and moved through the shadows to avoid the majority of the soldiers. Grabbing the layout silently from one of the guard's mind, Eragon pointed to the right direction and padded through the castle walls.

As quickly as their Elvin speed allowed them to, the three warriors made their way to the blocked and guarded door. Twelve largely built men stood in the waiting, their armor indicated they were of the highest status, the elite guard.

_Eragon, these are soldiers from the elite guard of the King himself. They are called the Draconi, and are highly skilled. _

_Why would the king send twelve of his best to guard Belatona's ruler? _

_I do not know. _

_And we do not have the time to find out. Blodhgarm, stay here and cast your spells, Arya and I will attack with our swords. If they are stronger than expected, try and make quick work of them from a distance, but save your magic when possible, we do not know what is in store for us behind those doors. _

_Very well Shadeslayer. _

His blue blade flaming, Eragon stepped from the shadows and attacked the nearest man. He seemed to be taken by surprise, but his bases were quickly covered by the next guard. Arya ducked low and swept her leg across the ground, successfully putting both soldiers on the ground, Eragon wasted no time with his attack. Stabbing one with Brisingr and giving room for Arya to make quick work of the next. One man's neck broke, work of Blodhgarm no doubt, and the pair moved to other men who surrounded them. They fought back to back, giving Blodhgarm ample space to target his spells.

Arya and Eragon blocked and parried their way from the soldiers, occasionally taking a stab at a soldier, felling him quickly. They were far more experienced and skilled than the other soldiers, an army of these might stand a chance against a company of elves, but they were only twelve today, and that was little cause of concern with two elves and a Grey Folk descendent Dragon Rider.

"The door Eragon, it is warded."

He checked the surroundings, indeed it was, wards, but not too strong. He plunged Brisingr through and the wards began to slice away with the breech in defenses. Taking a deep breath, Eragon kicked the door open, unsure of what he would find.

"Shadeslayer! Move!"

Blodhgarm's voice carried out behind him, Eragon was tackled and pushed to the side as Arya leapt in the other direction. Where they were was the product of an electric ball of energy.

"Eragon Shadeslayer…I taught your father Morzan. Perhaps I could do the same for you."

The voice was chilling, unfamiliar, Eragon never heard this voice before, and neither was it a Shade.

_Eragon where are you? _

_I am on the other side, I see you from this angle through the mirrors. The room is full of them. _

Arya glanced around, indeed it was, but somehow…familiar. And then it clicked.

_Eragon I know who this is. He was an old teacher at Vroengard. He was the teacher of illusions, and was corrupted by the king years ago. He disappeared, no one knew where he was until now. I read about him in the scrolls my mother gave us. _

_His name…_

_Uthsar the illusionist. _

_An elf?_

_Unfortunately yes, but not a Dragon Rider. Some teachers on Vroengard were not Riders though most were._

The chilling voice started again, "This, Rider, is something your father was never very good at, seeing things for what they are. He failed at my tests, and I believe you to fail as well. It is good, for me anyway. I have a choice for you, join with the king, live your life in peaceful eternity, bring back the Riders, lead as you were born to, or die today. It is a rather simple question…ah, I see you."

A look of horror came over him, he was seen, but he could not see him. Grabbing Blodhgarm, he jumped over some mirrors and hid again. Turning to look back, he saw the other half of the place blown up.

_Arya move! If he stands where I was, he can see you too. _

_I know, I already have moved. I cannot place where he is. Split with Blodhgarm. _

"Your Elvin companions are wiser than they act, interesting…"

Eragon signaled that Blodhgarm move in a different direction as he noiselessly drew Brisingr from its sheath. He walked towards the mirror, taking a sharp left.

"Bad move Rider."

A blade came crashing down his back, but Eragon managed to scrape away with a just a deep cut.

_Eragon! _

_I am fine…keep moving. _

He turned to look around, but he again, saw nothing. Something was not right…he had heard a crash, but none of the glass mirrors were harmed. Eragon touched the nearest one, it was solid, the next…also solid.

"You are catching on, perhaps Morzan did not rub off on you as he should have."

The hilt of a sword caught him in the jaw and Eragon was sent flying backwards. He expected a crash, but none came, he looked in front, and there was another mirror, but he had flown at least ten feet back. He put his hand on the mirror…and felt nothing. Some mirrors were an illusion, even the sounds were illusions on his ears.

_Arya! Blodhgarm! Break the mirrors some are real and some are fakes. Break all of them! _

_As you wish. _

His vision was getting clouded, a dark red liquid touched his eyebrow, head injuries always bled the worst. He heard the banging and clanging of shattering mirrors, before he started to do the same.

"Tsk, Tsk, Tsk, you have gotten past the first step to beating me Shadeslayer. Perhaps you are worthy of the name after all."

The voice resounded everywhere, throwing his senses off. The room echoed, but still there was no one source. The sound of a blade swooshed, but Eragon was quicker. It grazed across his cheek leaving a fairly shallow cut. His own sword followed the source, and Eragon made contact with something.

A grunt from the other side confirmed his suspicions. He charged through the illusion…but no one was there.

"Now Shadeslayer, did you truly think I would remain there after being cut? Admirable, you cut me, but that was blind luck, predict my movements and only then are you worthy of being called a Rider."

The next blade came from his right side, the slice of the air the only indication of it. He blocked it, but quickly had to regain his composure as the sword sliced through the other side.

This was not possible, the speed at which the swords came at him was not possible. He tested a theory and stood still when he heard a blade come at him. He saw the white air that usually came with a piece of metal flash before him, but no contact came. Uthsar was using illusions with the sword as well.

"You have caught on well." The chilling voice continued to resonate off the walls. He glanced around, there were windows above, they were in the tower. The walls were echoing the sounds. He had to get rid of them.

_Saphira! Bring down the tallest tower here. _

_I am already on my way. _

_Arya! Blodhgarm, move out of the center, Saphira is breaking the ceiling. The sounds are echoing, and we need to pinpoint the voice. Be careful, some the blades are illusions as well. _

"What are you planning Shadeslayer?"

He felt the air change behind him, it was indeed a blade, the air was cut more than sent his way. The Rider brought up the blade to his back, sending the other spiraling back with his strength.

_Eragon, are you alright? I feel your pain. _

_I am fine Saphira, just a little injury to my head. _

_And Arya, and the other pointed ears. _

_They are fine. _

_Watch yourself. _

Saphira flew through the walls, her armor protecting her from impact and her speed cutting through. She picked up the top dome and let it fall twenty stories from the top.

"Can you speak now Uthsar?"

"You bastard son of a whore!" The voice for the first time seemed panicked. The insult and fear causing the old teacher's composure to burn quickly.

The voice came from his right. Eragon quickly turned and stabbed through the mirror.

_Blodhgarm, Arya, attack his mind now. _

The two elves quickly found the mind of old master and probed their icy shards into the barriers. The mirrors flickered but they remained as they were. Finding their power, Eragon added his energy into attack and the mirrors began to fade away. A shimmering view of a black haired elf came into view. Uthsar…

The Rider began his assault, reeling the traitor back towards the wall. He kicked his leg out and brought the man crashing against the wall. It sounded with a nasty thump, but the elf quickly raised himself back up. Uthsar pulled the sword from the ground and held it out in front.

The blade, undoubtedly a Rider's and a Shade of blue he only knew too well. This was Undbitr, this was his father's blade.

"Traitor, where did you get that blade?"

"A gift, what does it mean to you, Bastard Rider."

"Everything."

His renewed assault began as he constantly clanged Brisingr against his father's sword. It was not meant to be in the hands of one such as him. The elf was talented. He was not tiring at the rate Eragon wished him to, no doubt the energy in Undbitr sustaining him for quite some time.

The battle needed to be finished quickly.

"The leader? Where is the leader of Belatona?"

"Dead Rider, dead. I killed him and took over as him. It was my illusion."

"Then it ends."

_Arya, Blodhgarm, now! _

The two elves ran through the debris, their swords out in front, their bodies weary from exhaustion. Eragon kept Uthsar's attention to himself giving Arya enough time to attack from behind. She jumped in the air, her blade poised to slice, and gracefully flew over the elf. She landed knelt on the ground, her head down in a sort of finality from her actions. The Rider turned to look at her victim, his face was curved in a malicious smile.

"You will fail…fail bastard, you will fail." His voice cracked and fell silent and Eragon watched in a morbid humor as half his head slid grotesquely down from the rest of his body. He slumped over on the ground, blood flowing freely from his sliced head.

_Shadeslayer, we are through with the soldiers. _

_We have finished the leader here, we are coming down Commander Alinor. Saphira is here as well. _

_Nasuada is on her way, the second on command here has surrendered, no one has seen the real leader for weeks now. _

_He is dead, Uthsar was here in his place, creating illusions of being alive. _

_I will meet you shortly here Shadeslayer. _

_Very well Commander. _

Eragon walked over to the dead body, pulling Undbitr from his grasp and detaching the scabbard.

"Brom's sword…"

He turned to Arya. She was standing staring at him from the depths of her emerald orbs, mourning what he was inside.

"Are you alright, iet Drottningu?"

Her voice was grim, "Yes, but you are not." She walked over to him, gently pulling a shard of glass from the cut in his head. A fresh wave of blood greeted her hands, she was swaying with weariness, the mental battle with Uthsar taking its toll. Fighting it, she placed her hand over the cut and healed the damage. Nearly dropping with weary, she fell into his arms.

"Arya, you should not have."

He held her tighter, uncaring Blodhgarm was watching them with his wolfish eyes. He poured a little energy into her, he barely felt the effects, he was not at his maximum yet, but Arya's condition was greatly improved. Her skin gained their usual warmth, and her body stopped its shuddering.

They walked towards the exit, hurrying down the stairs to see what the Varden leader's next plan of action would be. It was nearly dawn when Belatona had fallen, but the battle had taken its toll on the insurgents. Eragon listened half heartedly as the second in command announced his loyalty to Nasuada and zoned out completely when the crowds started cheering. The city, liberated as it was, still stank of the blood of dead bodies.

_Little ones, let us move out of the city for the day. We need not tarry here any longer. Bring Pelean and set up your tent outside today. The skies are clear, it will not rain. _

_Thank you Saphira. _

They silently mounted the great dragoness, seeking out the Elvin horse's mind and took to the skies. Many of the Belatona population stared after him, half in awe, half in horror. But he only caught the gaze of one…Roran was looking after him, an expression of anger and sadness. He would need to talk to his cousin before long. But not now.

Saphira landed close to the mountains near the lake. The side away from Dras Leona. Eragon set up the tent and built a small fire, while Arya lay near the water, still relatively tired from the ordeal. She had used an excessive amount of energy breaking the barriers. Even Eragon felt the effects after fighting one like that.

Part of him resented Uthsar's death. He was the last living link besides Galbatorix to the Older Order of Riders. If only Uthsar could have been different, if only Eragon had the strength to convince him otherwise, but it was not so. The Elvin princess slew the oldest of the Elvin traitors, and Eragon was once again pushed into darkness.

"Do you regret what I did?"

Her voice remained calm, unemotional as it often had been before she lowered her barriers around her mate. Killing an elf was not an easy task for her, but she had in fear of her mate's life. And he regretted her actions…

"No Arya, I would never regret his death at your hand. I celebrate it. Uthsar was a traitor, he deserved his punishment. Had we left him alive, I would have not resigned him to a better fate, simply a longer one where I would be able to access the information. But he is dead, and even that outcome is for the best. I still have you and your scrolls, elves that visited Vroengard, and the teachings of Oromis and Glaedr with me. I find information he might have had useful, but never vital."

He stripped the sweat and blood soaked articles of clothing from his body, his face was healed but the long gash on his back had yet to be.

"Eragon!"

He lifted his head. Arya's eyebrows were furrowed slightly, her lips pursued, her jaw locked, and her voice unreasonably calm, but more of a calm before the storm. Anger radiated off of her eyes. They had become beacons in the darkness to black holes sucking the life out of him.

"What is it Arya?"

"Have you callused your entire body? Or are you unable to feel anything but my nails raking at your back?"

He glanced in worry. She was angry, that was certain, angry enough to reference their love making in a not so surreptitious manner.

"Go in the water." He complied to her demand, stepping in the cool, clean water. Eragon turned and watched in wanton fascination as she stripped her clothes and followed after him.

"Turn around."

He followed her order, reluctant to lose the sight, but did so.

"Do not move."

Again, blind faith.

Arya glanced at the cut on his back, it was these little cuts that worried her. Even a small wound could fell the largest of creatures and if Eragon neglected to take care of these wounds, the blood loss might render him incapable of it. Infection was rampant in the Varden camps, a too high a risk to keep wounds this size open. She cleaned the gash and once again expended her energy to close the wound. Swaying on her feet, Arya let the water hold her weight up, too tired to do so herself.

"I am sorry Arya. I did not notice."

His apology was as unexpected as it was sincere - he truly regretted worrying her. Slowly, Eragon washed out the grime of war from Arya's hair, using the herbal hair wash she liked best. Taking a comb, he straightened out the tangles in her hair, few as they were and laid her gently down on the cot. The princess was tired, far too tired to not sleep in his arms. Eragon tucked his body around hers, laying the blanket over them in a sense of finality. No one would disturb them here.

His thoughts drifted from Uthsar to the Belatona's siege. They had lost one man, the same man who alerted the Empire they were in Belatona. It was an interesting fate. He was a brave man to come on such an expedition, perhaps Eragon would have fared better if he took another elf instead of him. Such a mistake on his part cost the life of that man, the Rider should have known better.

_Do not dwell on those thoughts little one. It was not out of lack of strength he did not survive, but rather a lack of intelligence. The man was backed up near the edge of the window and in an effort to save himself, he switched places into the sword of another soldier. It was not your fault at all. _

_Would an elf have made the same mistake? _

_That cannot be known, it was a mistake, and elves do make them. _

_You are right Saphira. _

_I always am. Now sleep, you have had a rather distorting day, and I have a feeling you will still be breaking mirrors tomorrow morning. Rest well tonight, I shall see you in the morning. _

_Very funny Saphira. Good night my Sapphire. _

He stayed awake for a little while longer, unsure why he was unable to sleep – the reason evading him. But soon the weariness of the battle took to him, and he finally laid his weary head to rest.


	13. Chapter 38: Uthsar's true power

Chapter 38: Uthsar's true power.

"What are you thinking of Iet Shurtugal?"

He glanced up at Arya. They had since woken up and were now contentedly sitting outside the tent on a few fallen logs nearby. Feeling she needed to explain herself, Arya began to speak again.

"Your eyebrows are furrowed, and the lines on your forehead can only mean that you are deep thought of some sort. The only other time I have seen you like this is when you discovered the antivenom for the poisoned swords."

A small chuckle emitted from his mouth. Not only was she a master at deciphering his emotions, but even his facial expressions were readable. And so he asked his question. "Do some elves practice sorcery?"

She looked surprised at his doubt, a confusing look over her eyes.

"I suppose it is not unheard of. It is not impossible for them to practice sorcery, although most elves do not. Why?"

"Yesterday, Uthsar did not say any words of magic when he was fighting us. I know that magic can be used without words, however, with two elves and a Rider, strong as we are, are attacking one elf, surely the magic would have faltered and gone awry at some point or the other."

She considered his thinking, it was more than possible, in fact it was highly probably and nearly impossible that he was wrong in this matter.

"Are you saying then that Uthsar summoned spirits and bent them to his will?"

He cocked his head to a side, "I believe so. It is normal for humans to lose control of their power, but elves with their mental strength and capacity, I believe they are far more capable of summoning spirits to their will, even if they do not practice it."

"You are right, but why does it matter? Suppose he did use spirits as a source of power, he is dead."

"What happens when the sorcerer dies and the spirits are still in his possession?"

"I do not know the details of sorcery. You will have to ask Trianna."

His face fell considerably, instigating another doubt from Arya's lips, "What, Trianna is nice enough, stubborn and strong willed, but nice enough."

_It is not that little princess. It is simply that Trianna fancies Eragon and has been after him ever since he arrived. _

_Nay Saphira, she has not done anything. _

_Then you have not noticed the looks of utter hatred Trianna gives you from time to time, especially when Eragon is next to you. _

_I thought it was directed at him for placing them directly under the Varden's command. _

_No, Little Princess, it is certainly not. _

Arya was reluctant to have Eragon suffer through the advances of a persistent witch.

"Eragon why are you thinking much of this? To what end are you searching the answer to your question?"

"Shades and sorcerers are quite close in being. The only difference being who is in control. When Durza died, before I lost consciousness I remember seeing orb like things, much like we saw when traveling through the Empire, those free spirits. If that was the case, and the spirits were being released, in a way, then they can be used again. However, if we can find a way to destroy the more evil spirits, then essentially, we can prevent Galbatorix from ever creating a Shade again."

He was correct, essentially, but the need for such a feat was perhaps avoidable.

"I understand where you are coming from, and I do believe you could accomplish such a feat, however, ridding Alagaesia of evil spirits will take far too long. You, as you are, have already bested Shades with your power of the Grey Folk, and I have little doubt you can do that to the king as well. It is not in the best interests to take time off from the last surge before the winter to take Dras Leona and Helgrind to follow this task."

Arya was right, she was always right, and only an idiot of the highest caliber would ever think to doubt her words. Taking this task when the Varden was taking over Dras Leona would ensure they would lose the position.

"You are right Arya, but we have another problem to face. Will the elves march in Gilead march with the Varden from a starting point on to Dras Leona? Or will we have to arrive at different times."

"They will march together Rider, we will march together."

_Little ones, we must head back to Belatona, we cannot linger here longer, we have the last surge to plan. I doubt the king expected Belatona to fall in one night, and I believe he will send soldiers to Dras Leona because of it. _

Arya packed the bags quickly, ordering Pelean to go to the stables and wait there. Someone would recognize the horse as hers. Saddling up the massive dragon, Eragon jumped into place and waited for Arya to swing behind him. With a powerful flap of her wings, Saphira took to the skies, the ground windswept under the beat of her rhythm. She flew swiftly to the Varden's new strong point. The council was set in the fourth floor, Belatona had no courtyard, only a small patch of flowers as a garden. The city was confined within the lake on one side and the Spine on the other.

"We need to speak with your mother, Iet Drottningu."

Arya nodded her agreement as they came upon the sights of the leaders huddled together.

Murmurs of Shadeslayer and Ambassador spun around the room, but no one gave either of them more words than that. The direness of the situation was at hand.

"Shadeslayer, Ambassador, before we continue the discussion, this is Caleb, now leader of Belatona. He was the one who publicly joined the Varden when the news arrived of the first in command's death."

Eragon looked at Caleb, he was an elderly man, in his fifties. His hair was like a chess board, streaks of black and white joined together, but his eyes were a vibrant brown, beady almost, taking years off his aged face. He was in good shape, medium height, and far more muscular than most other men his age. A warrior, no doubt, one who constantly expected the best from his soldiers.

"Shadeslayer, I must thank you for ridding us of the magician. I do not think we would have ever known had you not arrived."

His amusement showed through, Caleb was not properly informed.

"I cannot accept your thanks, Sir Caleb, for it was not me that slew him. Lady Arya, Elvin ambassador was actual slayer of this magician."

Embarrassment flooded his cheeks, it was not the best first impression of Caleb's but there was nothing he could do of it.

"Forgive me, Ambassador, I did not know. Thank you for ridding us of the magician. We are all thankful for it."

"It is no matter General, I only wish we had known of him earlier."

Her voice was formal, but not emotional. It seemed Eragon was one of the few privy to her true voice. Everyone else was simply graced with her, not unkind, but unemotional one. Eragon felt privileged.

"Now that the introductions are over, we have more pressing matters to take care of."

Nasuada's voice rang over the council and immediately the discussions for moving forward began. Arya was tasked to find out the dealings of the elves before she left, but other than that, the council was rather fruitless. The Varden leader kept them back for some time, informing them that a room had been arranged for them on the top story of the castle, by the tower. Since the majority of the time would be spent in Dras Leona, both opted to keep themselves relatively packed. September was rounding the corner, and Dras Leona was on the horizon.

Gingerly placing the mirror in front of her, Arya sat down in front and waited for her mother to reply to her calling. The scene changed into the throne room of Gilead, her mother most likely conducted her meetings here, it was the easiest way to get into contact with the Elvin Queen. However, it was not Islanzadi that answered the call.

Lord Däthedr came into view.

"Arya Drottningu," He bowed and initiated the Elvin greeting to which she replied appropriately. "Is there anything I can do for you?" He stiffened slightly at Eragon entering the scene, but otherwise remained calm. The Rider felt bad at his predicament, perhaps at a later time the elf would feel comfortable around him.

"Yes, please call my mother, we have urgent business to discuss with her."

"Very well, Drottningu, I shall call her immediately."

The scene went bare in the darkness of Gilead's throne room, and they waited for the regal Queen of elves to show herself.

Arya leaned her head against Eragon's shoulder, it was not that she was particularly tired, but rather enjoyed the comfort of his touch. He snaked a hand to hers, lacing her fingers with hers so their contact was unnoticeable by those who chanced a look at them. Minutes later, Islanzadi appeared into the screen.

"Mother, how are you?"

"Fine Arya, and you Eragon. How are you?"

"Quite well Your majesty."

"What has happened since I last talked with you?"

"Eragon and I led a group of ten or so into Belatona, and took the city by surprise. We easily overcame the Empire's soldiers, but we were surprised at seeing a long lost Elvin teacher at Vroengard still alive."

"Uthsar?"

"Yes, mother Uthsar was alive, and seemed to willingly serve Galbatorix."

"He is…dead, I hope."

"Yes, Your Majesty, he met his end at your daughter's blade."

Relief was evident in the Queen's face, "Good, now to pressing business here."

Pulling a chair, Islanzadi took a seat opposite them and began narrating her tale.

"Vanir and I arrived within good time, nearly four days ago. The commanders here did their best to find the Elvin traitor, and they did. A little too late however. When we had discovered who it was, we found the body in the dungeons, poison leaking from his mouth. He committed suicide before we could get anything from him. The notes and the other items in his tent proved rather useless, there for show and nothing else. We do not know whether he served the king willingly for he kept mainly to himself."

Arya's voice choked, "His name mother…"

"Ahrah, his name was Ahrah. Interesting name if you will, a sly beast its meaning…a sly beast."

The Queen's face fell a little, but she continued, "Other pressing matters of business…since the death of Ahrah, Gilead has been relatively peaceful, no more attacks, a secure stronghold. We shall arrive in Dras Leona at a relatively longer pace as to not tire the warriors."

"We have planned to march to Dras Leona by September 13th, we will meet at Helgrind. It should be relatively abandoned, the Razac are dead. And then to Dras Leona."

"Then on the 13th of the coming month, I shall see you in battle."

The mirror faded to black and finally turned back to its reflective screen. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror…his face was getting older. It had been a good four to five years since the war had started for him. Months spent here and there, time wasted, but the Varden progressed nonetheless. He would turn twenty this coming February, the exact day even he never knew, just that it was at some time or the other. He looked more mature, if that was any observation. His face gained clarity of a sorts, leaving behind its boyish curves and smiles. It was a man's face, hardened, sharp, honed, distinct features.

"Why is your face only a source of disdain for you, when it is such a pleasurable source for me?"

She turned to face him, kneeling so her face was parallel to his. "Is it not enough to know that the sight of your face sends my sadness back into the depths from which they came, is that not enough to look pleasurably on your own face?"

Eragon smiled at her, it was enough, it was more than enough to be pleased with anything that drove her sadness away. He leaned in, kissing her soundly before reluctantly lifting himself up.

He moved to the window, the tall mountains of the Spine covered his view, he could not even see a hint of the other side tall as the tower was. Kuasta was on the other side, he would not go there, but still, the idea haunted him. Eragon felt his mate slid her arm around his waist, resting a wandering hand on the lower abdomen.

"What are you staring after Iet Shurtugal?"

A sorrowful smile in his voice, he wrapped an arm around her, and answered, "Kuasta, Iet Drottningu, I am staring after Kuasta."

"Your town."

"Nay, my father's town. I am not from Carvahall, therefore I cannot say that is my town, I am rightly from Kuasta, but have never set foot there in my life, and I cannot say that is my town."

"Do you wish to go?" Her voice was laced with concern.

"I do not know what I wish for Kuasta and my relationship to be." He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts before speaking again, "I do not have a particular opinion of the place Arya. Perhaps in honor of Brom, I should pay a visit, but it is no home of mine. My home is with the people I love, whether it be in makeshift residencies in newly conquered cities, or under Saphira's wing, my home will always be with both of you."

He stopped speaking again, letting his words pass uncontested in the air.

"Do I look like him Arya?" As of late, Eragon was pondering his relationship with his father. While never having known Brom as his father, the Rider was debating on the similarities between the two, and he could never see any.

"A little, the same body structure, lean, tall, muscular, well built, graceful, fluid almost, but you have your mother's features. She had a softer lined face, not the hard block like structure of Brom's. Perhaps that is why I always thought of you as a graceful human as well, you had a soft facial structure. Your eyes, however, are the same color blue as Brom's but their shape is much like your mother's, larger, deeper inset."

She raised her hand to his chin, gently, yet firmly forcing him to meet her gaze.

"Eragon, what has brought all this contemplation? This morning you asked relentlessly about a task you knew would be unnecessary, and now you are asking questions you have never bothered yourself with before. I am in your mind Eragon, and I know this has not been nagging you. Your questions of late are only prolonging something else. What is wrong?"

There was no denying the truth any longer, "Arya, when we go to Helgrind, I will visit Brom's tomb, and even in his state, how am I supposed to face him?"

A look of confusion swept her features. "What are you talking about Eragon?"

"He loved me more than I can ever imagine, and all I did was get him killed. The last time I saw him, he apologized to me in the cave of the Grey Folk. _Apologized._ I should have apologized to him, I should not have fought every step of the way, should not have debated and countered him at every instance, and perhaps he still would have been alive today. If only I had more time with him now, I could tell him what he meant to me."

"You loved him, even before you knew he was your father, you loved him."

"Very much."

"Then he knows Eragon, he knows how much he meant to you."

"How can you know that Arya?" His tone was exasperated. Months of this nagging, this debating taking its toll on his usual strong voice.

"It is a fact of love. Words can never truly express the depth of a feeling, only actions can. Actions speak louder than words, he knew, my dear Rider, he knew."

The Rider smiled at her, conveying in not so many words that he appreciated her thoughts on the matter. It served to cease his troubled mind.

"Has my Rider eased his mind only to fall silent once more?"

"I am at a loss of words around you Arya. That, I fear, will always be the case."

"Is there much else to do today?" The Elvin princess changed the topic, she was far too engulfed in his words to delve deeply in them. He had the same affect on her, loss for words.

"Fortunately no. The time will be spent preparing for Dras Leona and waiting for the others to arrive in the next days. The women and children and rest of the Varden to come."

The Rider walked away from the window, fingering the ring on his hand. Aren, it still had a massive store of energy in it. He had not found a chance to use it yet. The ideal would be to save the energy for a different time, perhaps when rebuilding was necessary.

"The Varden need help positioning themselves in Belatona. The more people arrive, the more adjustments need to be made."

The time and place to relax would be after Dras Leona was taken, but until then, work would be relentless. The Urgals were eager to march on their former stronghold. Their hatred for Durza had made the taking of Helgrind and Dras Leona a cause for thousands more Urgals to join the efforts of the Varden. Metal sizing needed to be done, armor, weaponry, although most Urgals preferred their large clubs. And then there was the problem of decreasing space. Feinster was a bigger city than Belatona, but even that was crowded with the influx of the Varden. The tents would be moved to the Spine side of the city, it was relatively unguarded but because Empire had no use for it, it was safe.

Eragon hurried down the stairs, Arya quick on his footsteps.

"Shadeslayer!"

Jarsha's voice was evident over the crowd, his voice was becoming familiar to them.

"What is it Jarsha?"

"Lady Nasuada wanted to inform you that the Urgals from the mountains are arriving and Nar Garvzhog requests your presence at the receiving end."

"Thank you Jarsha."

The boy scampered away, looking for the next deliverer of his messages.

"Eragon, go receive the Urgals and I will look after the planning and setting up here."

He nodded and turned to leave, a slight jog in his step. Eragon came upon the sight a few moments later, the band of Urgals coming from what seemed the top of a small cliff, joined by the various dirt roads made by pure use only. They carried torches, fires blazing strong enough to drive away the clouds that sank to cover the mountains tops.

"Firesword."

"Nar Garzvhog."

The Rider liked the Urgal leader, he was strong, respectable, and remarkably intelligent. He ruled his kind equally, something even humans had not learned to do. Their greetings were short and formal, but their friendship ran deeper. It was Nar Garzvhog that accompanied the Rider all the way to Tronjheim, that alone was a feat he respected him for.

"They have come to burn down the home of that who controlled them."

"Durza."

"Yes, the slaying of that Shade undoubtedly increased their respect for you. You will have no trouble with their ordering. Coming to receive them ensured that."

"Even if I had not, I do not think the Varden would have a problem with the Urgals."

"These are the wilder ones, those who do not heed to some societal rules."

"Nevertheless, they would have listened to you, and I trust you. We would not have a problem with you as their leader."

"You honor me Firesword. Here they come."

The drums became louder and louder as the thousands of Urgals marched down to the city. The exact numbers, now even Eragon did not know. He had been since out of touch with the logistics of the operation. They greeted their leader as they marched down, and saved an acknowledgement of the Rider. Some asked of Flametongue, others raised a hand in a salute before passing through. He was standing for nearly an hour, but the Urgals had not even come close to finishing their entrance. Their walk was rather slow this day.

His thoughts flitted to Arya, wondering how she was doing with the gritty work of planning the Varden's layout. Saphira was already to the skies, hunting in the nearby Spine. Occasionally he received a vision from her, a recently killed deer or something that amused her, but other than that, nothing too important.

"Argetlam!"

A dwarf was calling him, he turned to see who sought him out.

"General Huvin, what can I do for you?"

"Lady Nasuada has called a meeting in her tent, she would greatly appreciate it if you could join her, or at least that was what the messenger boy I heard say when he was walking out of her tent. He went the wrong direction, and since I passed where you were, I thought I would share the message."

The Rider chuckled and turned to Nar Garzvhog.

"I shall see you later Firesword."

Eragon swiftly turned on his heels and headed towards the tent. He was surprised to see leaders who did not usually come to these plannings. Trianna was there, a nasty look on her face no doubt at seeing the Rider walk instinctively to the Elvin princess's side. Amusement laced her features.

_I suppose you are right. _

Sharing a laugh across their link, Eragon ran a hidden hand down her back, needing some form of contact after the hour or so apart.

"Shadeslayer, it is good you have arrived so quickly. We have a pressing matter to attend to. The taking of Helgrind. I would like that the city fall as soon as possible, there is nothing much we can do here, and Belatona will be quickly overrun in population if we tarry here longer."

His voice was laced with a concern he held about few cities. Helgrind being the foremost on his list.

"With all due respect, Lady Nasuada, Helgrind is no place for the Varden to stay. The things done there in name of holiness are…difficult to comprehend to say the least."

"He speaks the truth my lady." Roran had finally found his voice, even if it meant talking to him indirectly, Roran was speaking. "Helgrind will not be an easy place to stay in, and for thirteen days until we march to Dras Leona, it will certainly put a damper on spirits."

"The Razac are dead, their race is no more."

Eragon's voice went from pleading to cold in a matter of seconds, "The Razac were never the most dangerous thing that resided in that hell. I have gone through that place at least three times now, and I can say that I have missed targeted the enemies."

"That maybe the case, but we have no choice. Belatona cannot house us, and we need to move to Dras Leona."

Arya spoke, not wanting an argument to arise in this banter, "I have a solution. Let the non fighters stay here, the magicians, the warriors, all those who will fight will go to Helgrind and wait there until the time is ready. I say we leave in a week. A week here will not crowd Belatona, the people are moving in slowly, and there are still more from Feinster, a week here and a week there."

"That is the best we have heard yet, and that is what we will do. It is decided, we will move in a week. Taking over the city, how will that fare?"

The question was directed at the Rider, he knew the place best.

"The Razac are dead, and with them gone the king has no other reason to keep that place. It does not even provide him with much money because of the amount of bureaucratic corruption. The slave traders are running their own law system and are leaving the self-mutilating monks alone. The city will be easily taken over, there are no soldiers, and the slave traders can be easily disposed of. The monks, on the other hand, will try their hardest to capture new sacrifices for their prayers even though the Razac are not there to eat the flesh. No doubt there is a storage of body parts building up, rotting away."

Bile rose to Roran's mouth, and he predicted the same of many of the other listeners in the tent. Only Arya seemed to be unaffected by his words, but then again, she was a master at keeping her emotions under control.

"I suggest we subdue the monks as soon as possible, lock them away in the dungeons of Helgrind, but we cannot let them wander around, they will be a danger to the Varden warriors."

"In that case, we will split up a company, one will take the slavers, and the other will take the monks."

The discussion moved to more insignificant things, but Eragon left, citing reasons of needing to size up the Urgals. The Elvin princess followed shortly after, her presence was also cumbersome in that tent. Nasuada was soon left with Trianna and other members of her council to confer about rations and what not.

Eragon made his way back to the Urgals. They had gone to the armory and were quite incessant of getting the proper armor. Grabbing a few supplies, namely a tape measurer and a piece of parchment, ink, and quill, he walked quickly to the armory. There were usually others to do this task, but since most of the Varden were still getting situated, the Rider took up this task to the pleasure of many stressed helpers.

After a quick discussion with Nar Garzvhog about their preferences in armor, he pulled various metal plates and began the grueling work. The Rider was not very good at this, it was the first time he tried to do anything of the sorts, and he was sketchy at most.

"It would help it you took the arm measurements first, and then sized using all the measurements."

He chuckled at Arya's voice. Eragon knew she was close by, but heading his way was new to him. Giving her a sheepish look, he wordlessly handed her the tape measurer and opted to simply follow her orders. It amazed him how even the haughtiest of elves bent over backwards to ensure their princess received what she asked and promptly. He found himself moving swiftly at her orders, a relentless desire to fulfill all her wishes, no matter how little they seemed.

"Eragon! Tell Frederick to bring the next set of metal plates, and the rest of the mail chains. There should be about three hundred or so left."

He left quickly, a quick nod of his understanding. Bringing a few helpers with him, he found Frederick and packed the mules with the rest of the armor. There was not enough armor to cover all the warriors. Belatona, small as they were, had no soldiers to spare for the Varden. The soldiers present were under the Empire, and subsequently killed when the small surprise party attacked. With the second in command submitting fealty, he was left to rule with the Varden on his doorstep. He wanted nothing to do with the war against the Empire, and Nasuada was more than happy to oblige his request for the sake of avoiding another politician in her council.

"Shadeslayer? Are you familiar with a man named Arast?"

Eragon launched his head up to look at the speaker. The Basher…Darius.

"Arast, the name is familiar. How about we talk a bit later of him?"

"Yes sire, near the lake."

"Of course. I shall find you."

Darius stayed silent and meandered off unnoticed while the mules followed Eragon's lead. Darius being here meant one of two things: the Empire was still at large and was planning an attack on the Varden here, or he managed to escape unnoticed and came with some vital information. Either way, broad daylight was never the time to discuss either option.

Quickly coming upon the armor fitting, Eragon crossed the field to where Arya was, placing the armor and chain mail in the correct sizing places.

"Do we have enough?"

His voice was unemotional, something that had not happened since the day she admitted her love for him.

"For today, yes."

_What is wrong iet Shurtugal? _

Her voice caressed his mind, refusing to delve into the depths as a method of forcing him to speak.

_Remember the Basher, Darius. _

_The man you met when in Uru'baen. _

_The very same. _

_What of him? _

_He is here, and he wants to talk in private. _

_No, send someone else, he worked for the Empire for so long, it could be an assassination attempt for all we know. _

_The thought crossed my mind. _

_Eragon, why are you hesitant? _

_If he has information, he will not speak to anyone else. _

_Then I shall accompany you. _

He made a move to protest, saying he would be fine, but she cut him off with the glare that clearly said this was an argument he would never win. Rather than risk his mate's anger, attractive as it was, he agreed her idea was best and kept his mouth shut on the topic for the remainder of the time.

"Where is he?"

"Near the lake, waiting for me."

"Come, I shall be your shadow."

He walked in front of her and underneath the masked sun, Arya muttered the spell for invisibility and cloaked herself under the sun's rays. She placed a firm hand on his lower back, alerting him that she was there the entire time.

"Darius."

The man turned and faced him with a quick bow.

"Shurtugal I am sorry for my intrusion here in Belatona, but there was something I could not let go of."

Eragon nodded, feeling the shifting on his back caused by the change in pressure as Arya turned about, constantly on the lookout.

"When I heard that the Varden was moving towards Belatona, I made my way here as quickly as possible without being seen. It is about Dras Leona."

"What about the city?"

"Dras Leona is only known as the economic capital of Alagaesia to Alagaesians. The truth is that the city has a different purpose to the king. Dras Leona has never fallen, not to any group, not during any battle, and that is because nearly twenty feet under the entire city, there runs a network of intricate tunnels that the Empire soldiers travel back and forth from. They have ladders leading to various parts of the city and the outskirts, and can easily disperse and conduct a surprise attack. The Varden will break formation, and soon the soldiers will be no more. Attacking through the tunnel is impossible, but the soldiers can easily attack from underneath."

"How do you know this?"

"A few generals had a bit too much to drink and began talking of it in my bar."

"Can I trust you?"

Darius repeated the information in the Ancient Language, adding that what he said was true.

"You cannot stay here Darius, you can never know who knows what."

"I have only come to deliver the message, I will be traveling north, past the boundary of Alagaesia, where I hope even the king cannot track me. Godspeed Shurtugal. I wish you luck in your journey."

Darius mounted his horse and traveled towards the Spine, going as far away from the city as possible. Her image flickering for a fleeting second, Arya ceased the magic for her invisibility and stood in front of him, a worried look in her eyes. He placed a reassuring hand on her neck, caressing her face back and forth with the simple strokes of his thumb. Her neck was a cold contrast to his warm skin, much smaller than it looked. His bare hand could nearly cover half of it, such power packed in such a small body. Eragon drew himself closer in, placing the other arm around her waist, enveloping her. Placing her head on his chest, she turned so the bridge of her nose touched the bottom of his jaw, and closing her eyes, Arya let herself relax after a day of stress.

"What is troubling you iet Drottningu?"

"I do not know how we are to fight in Dras Leona."

"Remember Farthen Dur, the first battle we fought together."

"How can I forget Eragon? You slew my torturer then."

"Remember what we did before?"

"In preparation? We made burning water, other devices, entrapments."

"And we brought down the tunnels."

"How do you expect us to bring down the tunnels?"

"Send in a team again, find the depressions and press on the weaker ones. No one has to know the source of the caving."

"And if it is not enough? They will find out, the people in Dras Leona are scared loyal to the king, and they will find us out."

"Arya, it is something we must chance. If we go with nothing, then we will surely lose, if we go knowing at least some of their system is corrupted, then we have a chance."

"I have a different idea. One not so drastic."

Arya pulled from his arms and faced him. It was always easier arguing with him when she was not wrapped up in his arms, the stage of flight or fight seemed to instill a new force in her words when he was not around. His arms always took the fear of anything away.

Eragon's blue eyes remained horribly impassive, as if actually considering what she had to say. Part of her loved it, the other hated it. It would help if he was not so understanding, if she actually had a reason to be annoyed or angry, but she did not, and the lack of resolve was a result of little argument on his part.

"We should wait the winter out, have a few of our magicians infiltrate their ranks once again, blend with the commoners, and do the work slowly, they would never notice it considering the only time the tunnels are used are for battle purposes."

"Arya…" His voice was laced with apprehension.

"As much as your plan is the safest route, we have no time. Famine, infection, starvation, orphanage are all rampant in the Varden and the longer we prolong this war the larger the numbers lost will become. We do not have the supplies to carry out this war for longer than necessary. We do not have the time. Uru'baen must be taken before spring next year, and a new government in place by the summer. The Varden cannot hold much longer."

He was right, they had no time left to keep the war going on, but this new plan would run the risk of sending a group of elves to commit suicide.

"In any case, iet Drottningu, we need not worry about it now, we can talk with Nasuada tomorrow morning, in private. I do not want anyone else asking questions of how I know this."

Bringing his arms back around her, the Rider nuzzled her neck, inhaling her familiar, yet fresh pinecone scent.

"I have missed you Arya."

His truthful words could be the end of her, the sincerity of them coupled with his actions threatened to nearly shatter her heart. Her arms wove their own way around his body, clasping him to her with a strength only lovers possessed. The once light skies turned darker, and rain was pelting the ground. It should not have been unexpected, it was the rainy season for this part of Alagaesia.

Taking her hand, he ran towards their room. Saphira was already in a high tower away from the rain. The rest of the Varden had opted to seek shelter in nearby places, this rain was rather heavy to work in. Making their way up to their high tower, Eragon shut and locked the door, running his hands through his hair pushing the water droplets from the strands. It was a meditative sound, the flashes of lightning, illuminating the room for a few moments, the thunder shaking the towers, and the water pelting at the windows creating a steady stream of water outside.

MATURE CONTENT DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO

Arya pulled him away from the transfixing rain, drawing him closer to her. She ran her hands down his tunic before slipping under, her eyes never leaving his, her lips never coming closer.

"Arya…" His voice was husky, far deeper, far more desperate than he wanted it to sound. Saying he missed only her was a lie, he missed this as well, he missed making love to her, he missed her body, her kisses, her legs wrapped around his waist, he missed everything about her.

She smiled at him, smiled at his obvious lack of control, the constriction of his throat, smiled at the blatant evidence of his desire for her, smiled at the agony she was putting his through. And soon he could stand it no longer.

Pulling the tunic off his head, he closed the distance between them in one swift movement and pressed his lips against hers in what only could be described as pure passionate desire. Eragon coaxed her lips open, sliding his tongue through, willing her to respond to him.

And when she did, the effect was tenfold. The elf princess missed this as well, it was not that she merely liked making love to him, she loved it, craved it, needed it like none else. Stumbling over the bed, she fell down not knowing where it actually was. But the moment of shock was left unnoticed for he blanketed her instantly after. She felt Eragon deepen the kiss further, exploring the familiar crevices of her mouth, wondering if there was a spot he missed.

Running a hand down her leg, Eragon hitched it to his side, the motion already grinding their hips together. The friction between increased her hunger more.

"Eragon! Get it off." She almost released his name, as if the entire time he ravished at her mouth, the desire to say his name built as quickly as a lightning bolt.

He smiled at her reaction, loving how only he could make her feel the pangs of desire this severe. Her voice was breathy, a surprise even to herself. The leather was complicated but not unfamiliar. Days of watching her put it on and off allowed the Rider to undo the laces in mere seconds. He rolled underneath her, his lips trailing her jaw to her ear, burying themselves, nipping, biting at the expanse of skin near her neck.

It would leave a mark no doubt. Her hands frantically roved over his chest and hair, grabbing on anything they could find. When her laces were finally undone, she felt the material being yanked from her body, leaving the soft underlayer in place. Anchoring herself to his head, Arya felt his large hands sneak up her torso, grazing over her flat abdomen.

Unable to stand the offending material on her body any longer, he lifted her torso off the bed and rid her of the top. Her hair was flowing around her shoulders, an igniter of desire in itself, but it left her chest bare to his scrutiny. But there was no scrutiny, only praise of the highest order on his part. His lips trailed from her ear to the collarbone, taking the painstaking time to kiss and nip their way down her sternum.

His touch was feather light over her sensitive nipples, the light caress hardening them to point of pain. The pull on his hair only proved the burning in her body. Watching her face carefully, the Rider slowly lowered his mouth over one creamy mound, pulling, nipping, biting, rolling the hardened bud in his mouth. She was already slick with need, and he, on the other hand, was pleasurably tortured by the pain of his hardened shaft.

Eragon shifted his attention to the other breast, taking his time with savoring the feel of it against his intrusive mouth. His hands slipped underneath her leather pants, stroking unashamedly for evidence of her desire. She was writhing under his ministrations, past the point of simple craving. His hands deft at the task, he undid the tight belt and slipped the course material from her body, letting her legs feel the open air for the first time. Naked underneath him, Arya pulled him up, trying to speed up his actions. Her hands fumbled with his breeches, but she finally kicked his boots off and pushed his pants down, letting his hardened body free from its own restraints.

Her wild unadulterated glance demanded he move quickly before she lost control, but here was one place Eragon pushed his mate past the limits. She felt his lips lounge their way down her abdomen, her eyes already blurry from the pleasure of it. The princess suddenly felt a restraining arm against her waist, and before she realized what Eragon intended to do, she whimpered against him. The sight of his head bent between her legs, and the feel of his tongue roughly stabbing deep within her core sent her over the edge, and she was once again, bathed in hot liquid. He teethed and rolled over her most sensitive part, nearly causing her to fall apart in his arms.

"Eragon…" Her voice was nearly lost, she could not even form a coherent sentence if someone asked it of her, the only comfort she had was that her mate was no better off than hers.

Arya felt his answer as he spread her legs even wider, fitting his large frame in between them. His large tip was poised at her entrance, pressing slightly in, watching for any signs of discomfort. A smile was his answer, and her hands once again finding themselves wrapped in his hair, urging him to push forward. She was tighter than usual, but it was never a feeling of pain.

Eragon bit back a desire to simple thrust into her, as much as he wanted to, and slowly parted through her folds, prolonging the movement just as she liked it. Once he was deep within her core, Eragon bent his head, captured her lips, and moved in a steadily increasing rhythm. Her legs curved around his waist, hitching on his back, locking him in place. Her mouth raging at his, Eragon moved quicker, harder, deeper than what he started as. Arya's increased desire evident in his mind. Soon, he was pounding against her, nothing but thoughts of pleasure, love, and release on his mind. The pressure built farther and farther, he was nearly there, so was she, but for the second time.

Her nails were raking down his back, leaving a slight mark, evidence of her loss of control. The feel of her sharp nails proved to be nothing short than explosive to him. And with one final thrust, he let go of his control, letting himself free to release his desire into her.

He lay on top of her, spent. There was no amount of energy in the world that could make him less tired from their love making. She took all of him, every time. Her nails continued to flow over his back, gently soothing him, gently marking the fine sheen of sweat that covered their bodies. Finding some ounce of the strength in him, he rolled off of her, pulling out and capturing the small gasp emitted from her lips in one last savory kiss before huddling close to her and rolling underneath the blankets.

END MATURE CONTENT

His head propped on his elbow, Eragon looked down at his mate, basking in the afterglow of their love making. To his dismay, she was not looking at him. Her gaze was elsewhere, fixing on some unimportant aspect of the wall. Gently raising two fingers to her chin, he urged her to look at him.

"Arya, Iet evarínya nuanen, what is the matter?"

A hint of a smile showed at the use of her nickname, it was a little secret of theirs. He never called her that in public, only here, when the only witness of their love was the rain outside or the descending sun on the horizon.

"I am afraid at how much I love you." Her hands touched his face, feeling smooth, strong skin under her heated fingers. He turned his head to kiss her palm, pressing against her hand as she neatly cupped his face.

"I cannot erase that fear from you Arya, I can only ensure that I will make sure you enjoy every second of being in love with me."

"I already do." He brought his lips down to hers at the confession. He was tender, far less desperate, the only idea in his head being her pleasure, and her happiness.

_I love you Iet evarínya nuanen, it scares me how I much I love you as well. _

The curve of her lips indicated she understood, but the princess was already closing her eyes in drowsiness as he caressed the words through her mind. She snuggled against him, her body tucked into his, his arms two strong iron bands around her, his lips whispering promises of undying love and affection. It was no mystery as to why she was never plagued with nightmares, even those were scared away by his love.

The storm plagued the entire night, beating relentlessly against the glass windows. The broken tower was rebuilt tentatively by the dwarves to prevent any flooding of the building, but other than that, the city was well built for the rain. Rather than the usual grass and deep inset foundations, the craftsmen in Belatona opted for a more stony route, tough against the storm.

Opting to take a bath later, Eragon and Arya walked to the ramparts where Saphira was staying. Belatona never needed a Rider to overlook their affairs. The city was small and had little trouble governing themselves, and so a dragonhold was never built.

_Little one, you have something to tell me. _

_Saphira, Darius came yesterday and told me of Dras Leona secret passageways. If they do not fall, it is undeniable that the Varden will fail in Dras Leona. The passageways tunnel nearly twenty feet underground and go all around underneath the city. The attacks can break up the formation, and without strength in numbers, formation is key. _

_And your memories from the first battle in Farthen Dur have undoubtedly led you to this conclusion that the tunnels must break. _

_Yes. _

_Dangerous as it is, I cannot agree that it must be done. Tell Nasuada, rally some elves and enter the city at different times in the next couple of weeks. Helgrind can be taken without you there. Then at the proposed battle time, come back when you are done. Is it necessary that you go?_

_I do not know. _

_How many days do you predict? _

_I do not know. _

_How many tunnels? _

_I do not know. _

_This is a suicide mission. _

_I know. _

_I was expecting the same 'I do not know' answer from you._

_I like to be unexpected. _

A deep chuckle from Saphira rumbled the towers.

_Talk to Nasuada, it is the only thing left to do. Little Princess, what do think on the matter? _

_I have no choice Saphira, there is no other way. And among the possibilities, it is the best way. _

_Do not fear little princess, nothing shall happen to him or to you. Dras Leona is filled with bloodthirsty fools, blood seeking yes, but fools nonetheless. _

The confidence of a dragon was always better than other assurances, even if the mission was a dangerous one. Moving quickly through the castle, already familiar with the layout because of their previous unsupervised tour of the place, they knew where they were going.

Two Nighthawk guards stood by her door, it was always easily discernible that way.

"Eragon Shadeslayer and Ambassador Arya here to see Lady Nasuada."

One man went inside, seeking confirmation before stepping aside and letting the pair through.

"Arya, Eragon, to what do I owe this pleasure."

"I assure you Nasuada, this pleasure will soon be a pain."

She let a dark chuckle out and motioned for them to sit while she pulled out a chair for herself.

"What is it Eragon?"

He looked to Arya, worry in his eyes, and then back to the Varden's young leader.

"I met a man called the Basher in Uru'baen."

"Yes, I recall the story."

"He was here Nasuada. He escaped, supposedly, unknown and he came here to warn us of Dras Leona."

"What of the city?"

"Dras Leona has never fallen to someone who was not in command at the time because of a series of vast tunnels that run underneath the city. They have power by numbers and so by breaking up our formation, our one and only strength, they can easily rout our soldiers. The tunnels need to fall if we are to keep our formation."

"Oh lord, this serves as bad news. Where is the Basher now?"

"He is long gone by now, I am sure he rode through the storm. But he is heading north to Therinsford and then past."

Eragon observed as Nasuada placed her head in between her hands and rubbed her forehead. The scars from the Trial of Long Knives had not faded, deep as they were.

"What do you propose we do Eragon, Arya? I am at a loss."

"Eragon thinks it best that we send in a group of elves who changed their appearance and maneuver our way around and bring down the tunnels from the inside. It is the best and the only pliable option we have at this point."

Nodding she asked her next doubt, "Will you both be accompanying them?"

"I think it best, Nasuada, but it depends on what happens here. Helgrind does not need a huge force to be taken over, and Dras Leona, by far, will take nearly six days to find and bring down all the tunnels. However, there are more than enough capable elves of this task."

"I realize that neither of you are in my command any longer, but I have a request that one of you go and one of you stay. I cannot risk the both of you gone for that amount of time on the verge of a battle."

"I shall go, Nasuada."

"I thin-"

Arya shot her mate a silencing look, "I will go Eragon. The soldiers need you for morale, and the Urgals will not follow any leader besides you. You need to stay. I will leave in five days for the city, and take a group of elves numbering twelve or so. It will take three days for all of us to enter the city unquestioned."

"Very well, I prefer to keep this matter between us. The less people who know about your source, the better."

"I was thinking along the same lines Nasuada."

With a quick bow Eragon left her room, his conflicting emotions running rampant through his head. Arya was leaving, alone, on a dangerous mission, alone, without him…in five days. How could someone prepare for this? She did not even let him argue, not even one word on the matter, as if her life had no meaning to anyone else other than herself. As if she was not answerable to him, or to anyone.

He was angry, not even a question, not permission, the Rider did not want a relationship to grant her permission, but this…this was…there was no word for it. Storming down the stairs he left for the Urgals armor fitting. Accustomed to the procedure, he barked his orders and eventually fitted the rest of them. His mouth simply went through the motions, his patience running thin at anyone who questioned his authority. A young Varden soldier had repeatedly been at the blunt end of his reprimands. Others took a few here and there. It was nearly three when he finished with them.

He felt, more than saw, Arya's presence near him. She often helped here and there, but maintained her distance. The last of the Urgals filed out of the tent.

"Eragon, we need to talk."

Looking from the charts, he finally assembled enough desire to glance at her figure. She was leaning against the pole, her hair braided and tied in a bun. How her hair looked so free, so absolutely beautiful even when it was clipped, tied, and pinned he did not know. How long had it been since he said he loved her hair. And he did, it was silky, smooth, gorgeously raven black.

Catching his thoughts he walked over to her, his anger or disapproval fading, but he knew it was neither. Thoughts of her not caring for his opinion were only a cover for his fear. And he feared greatly for her life. His head down, he leaned his back on the pole next to her, his arms crossed at his chest, his body at an angle.

"Why are you going?" His voice was low, weak. Could she not see he was nothing without her?

"Because I must."

He shook his head, "It was not a must Arya, it was an option. I could have gone, we both could have gone, or neither of us could have gone, but only you…that was never a must."

"Eragon…" Her voice trailed off as he slid down the pole, his legs in front of him, finally looking like the boy his age indicated.

Sitting next to him, she took his hand in hers and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I am accustomed to traveling with a different name and facial structure. I can lead the elves, but most importantly, I will be more effective there than here. I cannot command the Urgals in battle like you can, and these new ones are not as loyal to the Varden's cause as they are to you. If you leave, we have the chance of losing all our reinforcements. That being said, it is a dangerous mission, and if something were to happen to all of us, the Varden would not lose their only hope. We are, if we like it or not, expendable in this case."

"No." Eragon shook his head even more, "You are not expendable Arya, you are never expendable." Turning to face her, taking her hands in his larger ones, "How can you even think that?"

"We are in a war Rider. Do not forget that. For the sake of war you disappeared for three weeks, for the sake of war you went into the heart of the Empire, this is war. Sacrifices must be made."

His eyes turned angry, "I understand sacrifices must be made Arya, I am not that childish. I also understand that some sacrifices are not necessary. It was not necessary for either of us to go on this mission, and you know that."

She stood, pulling her hands out of his, "Contrary, it is necessary. These elves do not know human customs like I do."

"And you know them better than me! Is that what this is about?"

Turning around to face him, her eyes intense with rage, she broke her calm mask.

"Of course not! This is not about proving anything, this is about making sure the losses are minimized. This is what the entire mission is about, minimizing losses. You cannot take one step, and see to it that it is done horribly. You spent hours ensuring the men would not be poisoned and left to die on the battlefield. This is the same, only my task ensures that the men are not split and slaughtered!"

"Dammit Arya! What makes you think that I did not even have a say in this?" He shoved his hands through his hair angrily, "Not even once did you consider my opinion on the matter! Instead you sign yourself up for this suicide mission and expect my compliance with it!"

"Am I? Eragon, am I answerable to you? I am not answerable even to my own mother! How am I answerable to you?" Her voice was defiant, an entirely new version of haughty, indignant, as if daring him to answer her.

"How?" But he was not one to be intimidated. He stalked across the room towards her, stopping barely five feet in front of her, a threatening look in his eyes. "Arya, you are asking me how you are answerable to me? I have a symbol across my chest that says you are answerable to me just as I am answerable to you! I have the symbol of you being my mate that makes you answerable to me!"

A tear leaked from his eye, reducing his anger to little else than despair.

"I love you Arya. I know I have gone on these missions in the name of the war, but it was necessary, there was no other who could have done so but me. But here, Arya, here there are plenty of others capable of such tasks. I thought it best to go, but I was not going to place my life in jeopardy because of a task that could be done by someone else. I have learned to minimize my losses, and this was a place I sought fit for it. But you…you go in my place and suddenly, the loss I had tried to prevent turns into the potential biggest loss my entire life could ever see."

He stopped his pacing, erasing the look from his eyes that clearly showed the signs of weakness on his part. Taking one hand and ridding himself of the next flow of tears, he looked up at her. She stood, still defiant in stance, but her eyes were teary, not ashamed, she was too prideful for it, but in despair, as he was. He reached a hand to wipe her liquid drops away, but he stopped himself, realizing this was one argument that could not be resolved in minutes.

Walking out of the tent, he stopped by the lake. It was true, even in anger she was so breathtakingly beautiful. Her anger, the defiant structure, her fierceness, she was the epitome of true beauty. Arya was right, in a way, minimizing losses was key, but even so, she was the princess of elves and her loss would be a devastating blow to their best warriors. That reason did not even come to mind though. The most prominent one being her death would result in the end of him, regardless of her political standing.

He sank in the grass, his fingers feeling the rain soaked green tendrils underneath his fingers. The elevation of the lake was raised a little, no doubt from the fierce rainstorm that occurred the previous night. It was still misty, a slight drizzle here and there but none of the lightning and thunder from before.

BOOM!

_Perhaps I have spoken too early._

Sure enough, within a few moments a flash of light somewhere behind him was followed shortly with another, even louder clap of thunder, and the rain began to fall with twice the ferocity of the previous night. The scampers of the camp behind him were muffled, and then fell silent, but he remained, reluctant to go anywhere, see anyone. He sank back down in the grass, lying with his head facing the gray sky, and his eyes closed, lest the droplets from the heavens pelt them.

"You will catch a chill, iet skölir fra súndavar, iet skölir abr thringa. (My shield from shadows, my shield of rain) Come inside."

Her voice nearly brought tears to his, perhaps it did, only to be washed away by the rain. He stood slowly, leaving the cool grass behind, and brought himself to look into her eyes.

"What are you doing here Arya?"

A frown from the Elvin princess. Even pelted by the rain, she managed to look regal, while he looked at best, disheveled. In an attempt to make him look more presentable, he ran his hands through his hair, hoping the water would make it stay away from his face.

"Do I need a reason to be here? A symbol over my heart says otherwise."

He let a small smile curve on his face and walked towards her. The sun had gone down, how long had it been since he was out by the lake. Nearly six hours. Raising a tentative hand, Arya hovered it over his heart, unsure whether he wanted her anywhere near him. But her doubts were cleared when he pressed her hand over his body. His other hand came up to her neck, his thumb stroking her cheek tenderly.

"I do not like arguing with you Arya."

She nodded against his palm, clutching his tunic as she pulled him towards her. Wrapping his arms tightly around her shuddering body, he buried his face in her neck as the rain bounced off of their embracing figures.

"I am sorry Eragon. I only thought of the war at hand, nothing else. In my effort to keep the war separate from our relationship, having no boundary at all, I took my decision placing far too little importance on it. I should have known, or discussed it with you. I was angry, and anger clouds my judgment."

Holding her tighter, he whispered in her ear, "You have nothing to apologize for. This is a war, and I understand your reasons. I may hate them, but I understand them. And I am sorry for saying you are answerable to me. I fell in love with your fierce independence, and I will not step over my boundaries again."

"There is never a boundary between us. Eragon, you are my mate. We should never have boundaries."

Running his hands through her raven locks, he hid his tears on her neck.

"We should go back iet Drottningu. It is rather cold outside." He walked with her, hand curved around her waist, minimizing the distance between them. Starting a fire back in their room, he opened the dinner that was sent to them. Nasuada had often looked to it that they had some food when they missed the dining hours while working.

"Are you still going?"

She sighed, "I think it is best. Leaving the elves alone in that situation would not bode well for them. Someone or the other will pick up on their uncharacteristic mannerisms. I do hope to, however, do everything in the dead of night. The soldiers will be drunk and unaware, and we will be stealthy, I think we have a better chance this way."

Nodding he resumed his soup eating.

"Please be careful."

Laying a hand over his, Arya waited until he looked her in the eye. "I always am."

He kept her hand in his for the remainder of their dinner, refusing to let go of that one ounce of contact. Smiling at her, he took her empty bowl of soup and placing it in the hallway, the servant would pick them up later. Pulling an easy chair from the side to the window, Eragon pulled a book from his sack, Domia abr Wryda, and cracked open the first page. He had read it before, but he needed something to take his mind off of this. His desire was short lived however, when the book was pulled from his hands and Arya placed herself on top of him. His hands held her secure instead.

"Am I…less entertaining than a _book_?"

He smiled in spite of himself. This was Arya, the true Arya, the one no one knew about. Playful, loving, jesting, the beautiful Arya she learned to close from everyone except him. That alone made him feel more powerful than the king of the world. Curving her arms around his neck, she anchored herself so that she could freely play with the locks of hair that curled by his ears. His own arms were around her body. One encircling her waist, drawing her closer, and the other braced her legs against his.

She was absolutely beautiful, her artisan hands, her artistic face, the slanted eyes, and her pointed ears, the high cheekbones, her red lips, all sources of absolute beauty. And her hair, he had forgotten about her hair, how that was possible he could never know.

"I love your hair, in case you did not know."

She chuckled at him, "I did know, the entire time I was in your mind. I remember you thinking that."

"Of course you would be." He leaned forward and took possession of her lips, savoring the feel of her next to him. Eragon abhorred arguing with her, it took more out of him than he cared to think about. All he wanted was her next to him, her loving presence by his side, in his arms. He needed her, and his catatonic state of depression proved exactly the extent of his need for her.

"I do not ever want to argue with you iet Drottningu."

Arya's hand caressed his face, moving over his cerulean eyes, tracing his jaw, and finally falling down his neck and resting on his sternum. Flexing her hand, she gently raked her nails across his skin.

"Our relationship will not be perfect Eragon, we will argue about these things."

"No, I understand disagreements. We can disagree, but not argue. Arguing with you kills me, it is this heart wrenching, horrible, emotional pain. We can disagree, everyone disagrees, a perfect relationship has disagreements, but this not these arguments."

He closed his eyes, inhaling her scent once more, "Arguing with you is aberrant to me."

"I thought you liked to see me angry."

"At someone else iet Drottningu, at someone else."

"It is late, Eragon, we should rest for the morning. The days are rapidly decreasing in time, and I fear we will not have enough of them before we march."

Eragon easily lifted her body in the air, carrying her to bed, his eyes never off of hers. He was an idiot to think he could ever win any argument with her. Absolutely useless. The little things she allowed to go his way, but whenever a major problem was concerned, it was Arya's decision, never his. Not that he minded much, it was a simple observation.

Darkness fell as the Rider put out the fire in their room. He left the curtains open, Arya loved listening and watching the rain as she slept. Curving his body around her, he placed a protective arm over her waist, his head close by her silky raven strands. He would make a note to tell her more often that he loved her hair. The morning came with the knowledge the first of the five days had begun until Arya's mission to Dras Leona.

The elves she would take…Blodhgarm, Ceris, Nari, her friends Raerieth and Tydrenea, a few other skilled magicians in the group of twelve spellcasters. A total of twelve would go, entering the city at five different intervals, two in one, four as a family next, one sole traveler, then a wife and husband pair, and then a group of three siblings on the run from a bad father. Over the span of four days, it would not be so suspicious. Technically, Eragon had nothing to worry about, but that did nothing to assure the fact he was more than worrying. If Arya felt anything like he was when he had left for some mission, he admired for her self control. At any moment the Rider felt as if he would refuse adamantly for this entire operation. But they had a few more days till Arya would leave, and during that time there was still much work for the Elvin ambassador to do.

For the Master Rider, he would spend his time going over battle formations with the Urgals and ensuring they knew his commands at each and every point. Helgrind was an easy target, but many things could go wrong if they were careless.

And so the lovers spent the rest of the days before battle close in distance, yet so far apart, their only connection the brief meetings while they passed each other, or their mental link, and then during dinner when the hectic day had finally passed. He made love to her every possible night, sometimes he would prompt her, others she would ignite his desire, but in any case, both were more than willing to consummate their love on a nightly basis.

Even so the night of the departure came closer than normal. Arya had slept late that day, her completed travel would only take half a day at her Elvin speed. She would enter with Nari first, their guise being brother and sister. She would not have opted for a husband and wife relationship, it would make some rather uncomfortable situations, and she looked a tad bit like Nari in a human face. The darker hair and complexion would no doubt look similar to the unobservant human eyes.

"Carry on, I shall join you shortly." They were quick to follow their princess, some took horses, packed under a guise of a journey. The weapons were hidden under rations, others under cloaks.

Turning to Eragon, she made to speak but looked towards the lake first. Glancing at its serene form, she cast a spell over her face, changing the bones, curving her ears and unslanting her eyes.

"Is it proper looking?"

"You look breathtaking, it is proper looking."

He could not bring himself to smile, the reality of situation dawning upon him. Instead, taking her hand in his, he placed a golden lily in the center of her palm and closed her hand over it.

"Promise me you will stay safe."

Tears threatened to leak from her eyes, "I promise."

"Arya, Iet evarínya nuanen, I love you. If you ever need motivation to come back from whatever gates you might get stuck in, know that no matter how many days pass, I will still wait for you to return."

Pulling her closer, Eragon pressed his lips against hers, trying by some unknown method to pour all his love into it, trying to convey exactly how much he loved her.

_Little princess, stay safe and swift on your feet. May the stars watch over you, or I shall come and watch for them at the first sign of alarm. _

_Goodbye Saphira. _

_Goodbye little princess. _

"Goodbye Eragon."

"Goodbye Arya, until we meet again."

"Until then." As fast as her feet carried her, she sprinted after the traveling Elvin company. If she stayed any longer, the princess would be hard pressed to leave. How could she have been so hasty? Is this what her mate felt every time he left her? If it was, Arya admired him for continuing in his missions, else the war would have ended much sooner, and not in their favor. Catching up the Elvin company, she slowed her pace to theirs, an Elvin jog, nothing faster.

Blodhgarm gave her a nod, and her two childhood friends gave a smile before setting their faces straight with determination of completing this mission.


	14. Chapter 39 The Degradation of a city sta

Chapter 39: The Degradation of a City Starts with the First Tunnel.

They arrived, nearly around three o clock at the city gates. Blodhgarm, Ceris, Tydrenea, Raerieth, and the rest of the elves stood ground at place nearly three miles away, far enough to remain unseen for the night, close enough for comfortable mental communication.

The Elvin princess and Nari had meandered their way over to the gate, one sole horse for them two, packed with the weapons artfully hidden under some clothes, and few commoner possessions. They looked relatively young, it was fortunate that the Empire had no need for more soldiers, no draft in place like the Varden did. Young men carrying a shabby sword did nothing for the Empire. But since the swords were only set to look shabby, and there were nearly six of them on the horse, Arya's diplomacy was key. They thought is best that the family not have to weapons on them. It was not customary.

They approached the guards.

"Sir, my brother Nathan and I are looking for some place to stay, perhaps find some work while we're here."

Her own voice sounded foreign to her, the formality leaving it for a more local taste to it. She hated the sound of it, the language was foreign, and now even her voice was.

The soldier was disgustingly human, an unrefined waste of life standing before her. His pompous belly stuck out from underneath his armor and his hair was appallingly oily underneath a rusted helmet. His face was bulging with the deposits of fat from an obvious lack of proper diet and exercise, even if a child was to break into the city, this guard could never have caught this child.

"And might be your name pretty lady?" His grotesque smile showed cracked and blackened teeth, the Elvin princess had to physically prevent herself from cringing at the sight.

"Alexia, sire, my name is Alexia."

"Well, Alexia, I might let you in the city if you promise me something in return." He laughed a little, saliva coming from the corners of his mouth.

The princess of elves could only stand the sight of his face for sometime longer.

"And what would that be sir?"

"If I let you in, come to my office tonight." He harshly grabbed her arm and pulled her closer. Nari was close to grabbing his sword but a sharp no from his princess stopped him.

"Please sir, my brother and I don' wan' any trouble. We just want to find some work, that's all."

"Alright, I let ye be. Go inside, if you cannot find work in a few days, leave, this city ain't no place for strangers."

Signaling the gatemen, the guard stepped aside and let the horse and the two disguised elves through, they would need to find a place for tonight. And based on the guard's personality, it would be best if they send the group of four through the gate today, he seemed gullible enough. The next day, however, would prove difficult if the same guard was there. In which case, they required the rest to climb the wall and go unrecorded.

"Nathan, we should find a suitable room first. In four hours, the next group will come."

Ensuring no one was watching them, Arya reached her mind past the city limits and to the furry elf Blodhgarm.

_Blodhgarm, are you listening?_

_Yes, Drottningu, I am here. _

_Good, tell the group of the family to come in today, make sure you place the illusion of being very young children, and discuss looking for some work with the guard, and do not, by any means, contradict what he says, simple say you are not looking to be troubled, and you mean no disrespect. _

_Very well Drottningu, how long shall we wait?_

_Four hours, no less. _

_We shall see you shortly then. _

Nari had found a room in the Monk's Inn. It had one bed, but an extra mattress was to be provided for the other person. It was not clean by any means, but it would do. Her thoughts went back to the most recent time she had done this – when she had went across the Empire for her mate. Thinking of him reduced her nerves and in this city, that was something to be grateful for. They had not walked two hundred yards and they had already seen monks with missing limbs, and men and women dragged around in chains. A small mistake on their part could lead to their capture into slavery. The rules were broken by the makers, and the others who break them received their punishments in enslavement.

Undoing their pack, Arya and Nari took whatever possessions they deemed necessary for the day and left the rest in a corner in the room. The ability to get out fast would be key here. The dress Arya had taken from the last experience was still with her, and in relatively good shape after a few touchups. She pulled on a cloak, hiding her sword in the back. The golden lily fell from the pack, along with a precious stone the princess did not pack. _Eragon. _Hemust have packed it without her knowing. It was the emerald stone that Oromis had given him, and was supplied with a massive energy stored in it. This was the reason her mate had been so tired as of late, he had nearly emptied his magic reserve, large as it was daily for this. As much as she wanted to be angry with him for taking a chance like this, Arya was grateful - extra energy would be needed for the extensive damage the tunnels needed to go through.

"Drottningu-"

"If we are to make this work, we must use our names at all times Nathan."

The princess could tell Nari was rather uncomfortable in the situation, but it must be done.

"Alexia, what are we doing for the rest of the day?"

"Exactly what we said we would do, look for work Nathan…and scout the city a bit."

There was little time to waste in these situations, only eight days remained until the march would begin, and the elves needed to go back to Helgrind for that. Her thoughts shifted once more to her mate, but her expression remained the same. He would be preparing the soldiers for the march tomorrow, and take Helgrind the next day.

The Rider slept horridly the next night. He was in familiar surroundings, the scent of pinecones permeating from each and every damned corner of the room, but the source was nowhere to be found. He could not risk even flying, Helgrind could spot a dragon in the distance and alert the king. Staring at the ceiling, he closed his eyes, reaching for some unknown object next to him. This was madness. Eragon missed her, missed her smile, her voice, her laughter, her embrace, her lips, her…everything. His heart felt strangely empty without her, absolutely and completely empty.

The next morning was one to be reckoned with. The march of Helgrind was the day after the next, nearly three quarters today, and the rest the next. The Urgals were fairly calm, even the solemn idea of war getting to them. Eragon had packed both his and Arya's belongings, Belatona, they would never see again, at least, not in the Age under King Galbatorix. Laying a hand against Brisingr, he thought of his father's sword. Undbitr. It was a paler, sky blue than his own deep sapphire coated blade. It was powerful, not as long, but it was powerful. The energy in the gem had been depleted significantly, no doubt used by Uthsar. His father's sword…he now had three in his possession: his own, Zar'roc, and Undbitr. Perhaps they would serve for the next Riders, if they were ever to exist.

"Eragon!"

His cousin's voice brought him out of his thoughts. Roran had finally spoken to him, something the Rider should have done days ago.

"Roran." A slight nod of his head, "How are you?"

"Better."

"And Katrina?"

He strummed his head side to side before answering, "Growing bigger, but she and child are alright."

"Good to hear."

"Where is Arya?"

"She was sent on a mission, she will be back before the battle on Dras Leona starts."

More silence insinuated, their relationship was complicated at best. While seeing the truth in his words, Eragon was hurt by them. He deserved some of the blame, but to know his cousin harbored such animosity the entire time was revealing to say the least.

"I did not mean what I said Eragon."

He could tell the signs of lying by his Elvin senses, sweaty palms, dilated eyes, eyes to the ground, but he needed none of those to confirm his belief. The simple shake of his voice was enough.

"Yes you did Roran, and it was true."

The bear of a man looked sheepish for once, the inklings of regret stretching into his voice.

"I believed it at once Eragon, and perhaps I think that at times, but the truth is I was angry and quick to find fault with you even though I knew you were not the blame."

The Rider smiled despite himself, "I was to blame Roran."

"No, no you were not. The man to blame is the man you are fighting against, and that is all anyone can ask of you. This was his fault, all the hardships we have gone through have been his fault, and I understand that now better than ever. I should thank you. The truth is I have been thinking of leaving the Varden for fear of my child and Katrina's safety, and your suggestion was so perfect that I truly felt like taking it, like a weak man. And I was scared of the notion of becoming weaker and in my insecurity, I insulted you. I am sorry Eragon, and I am grateful for placing my spirits back together. Knowing there is someone who cares about me on that battlefield is enough to be confident in marching in."

"That is not entirely true, I am not the only one watching for you. You have an entire company of men ready to protect you, that is loyalty. And for you words, I thank you, and for your apology, I accept."

Roran nodded and walked off.

_Little one, you should have said kinder words. _

_Nay, if the closeness of our relationship goes out, as it already has, another assassin will be sent, and this time, I doubt there will be a mistake. _

_I miss the little princess. _

_I miss Arya too. _

_Perhaps I should spend more time with her. It is strange, the only time you truly realize how important someone is occurs when they are not around. _

_I love her Saphira. _

_I love her as well little one, and I love you as well. _

_I love you very much Saphira. _

_Do not despair, she will return quickly. In the meantime, we must stop here, Helgrind is close by. _

Calling to the guards, Eragon sent the Varden troops to a halt, making camp for the night. He spent his time alone, walking among the different campsites, ensuring the procedure for the next day was known. Not caring for a tent, he slid down to rest near Saphira's belly, and slept fitfully for the second day straight.

Helgrind was an easy battle. No secrets, and little surprises. The people kept to themselves, and the slavers were killed almost instantly by the oncoming Varden soldiers. The monks proved a different problem, asking around for willing sacrifices before trying to take them forcefully, but the lack of limbs on their part ensured a quick death at the end of an elf's blade. The city was ransacked, most fled, many stayed hoping for a better home for themselves. The citizens were scattered around the woods, but poised no threat according the masked elves. The only part to look forward to was Arya's and her group of elves return in six days.

Only three elves needed to cross into the city, and they were coming on the last day of scheduled entry. Raerieth, with her blonde hair and curvy figure, had skillfully led a human general into a dark alley, where she proceeded to extract the information of the tunnels from his mind, and kill him moments later. The best and worst thing of the city was that no one asked what was being done. Crime was done publicly, and those who confronted it died even sooner than those on capital punishment.

On the third day, the nine of them devised a plan, each taking a different sector of the city. Arya was perched in the central sector, above in a large bell tower that looked over the entire city. Only the moon shone up here, the streetlights had no place where she was. Area being the key here, Arya stretched her mind in the meditative pose and discovered where dirt, or lack their of was most prominent, and sure enough, there were a vast complex of tunnels underneath where she stood. Nimbly climbing down from brick to brick against the side of the bell tower, Arya crouched low on the ground, her figure nothing more than a shadow of the building. Placing her palms on the ground, she pressed on the weakened aspects of the tunnel causing various places to collapse at once. The first was done.

Moving quickly to the next, the Elvin princess deftly repeated the movement and carried on her business.

"Oy! Who r you?"

_Barzul_, the man's obvious lack of proper normal tongue indicated a soldier standing. She pulled back her cloak, her face showing no concern. The more confident a face, the more likely she was to be left alone.

"Yea, you, who r ya?"

The soldier was young, rather unsure of what he was doing, and so it seemed, far too eager to impress a man of higher standing that his.

"Please sir, I was merely walking and thought I found something interesting."

"Like what?" He believed her, but was only covering his bases.

"It turned out to be nothing, just the light's reflection."

He nodded, as if he was superior enough to accept such a response.

"Get back as soon as possible. It is dangerous here."

Turning on his heels, the young soldier left her in the alley. There were no impure thoughts from his mind, he was an innocent, one who did not deserve to die in this war. A decent man, a man of quality caliber. But this was war, and he would meet his fate whether at the end of her blade, or another ally's. Finishing the rest of the sectors fairly quickly, and with minimal energy, Arya returned to the room through the window. It was better no one saw her enter and leave at the hours she had, it was cause for question.

Soon all the elves completed their tasks, and had reported to their respectful places. The next day, the last were arriving, and it was the city outskirts that would be targeted, a place far more open and far more vast than the city itself.

Eragon kept mostly to himself in Helgrind, the memories of the place opened scars too deep to think of. Brom's tomb was nearby, but Eragon did not feel he was ready to look on it. He would, when the war was over, but not now. Saphira had comfortably destroyed a tower for her to sit in. One of the three worship towers, and Eragon had slept under her wing everyday. Showers were spare, only one in the entire three days he had been here. Arya was coming back in five days, five long days.

Nasuada had given him a room someplace, but all that place served for was storage. He neither slept peacefully there, nor walked peacefully anywhere.

Day six came and went with little occurrence, when the tunnels were described at rarely used, it meant never used. No one had even spoken of it in the entire time they were there, not even a comment on how some part was blocked. Two more days and the entire operation would be complete. Arya had already dipped into the emerald gem, at one point, relying completely on the energy stored in it for weary to collapsing nearly twenty tunnels in one day.

The eighth day, however, went as horridly as could have.

_Arya? _

It was Tydrenea, and she would not risk their cover by contacting her mentally across the entire city.

_What is it? _

_Two soldiers have caught Raerieth and I, they have taken us to their headquarters in the middle of the city. They have all intentions of placing us in prison._

_Why did they catch you? _

_They saw a pretty face, the thoughts of lust are reeking from their minds. _

Barzul, it was a frequent word in her dictionary.

_Where are you supposed to be? _

_We have the adjacent sectors of the southeast corners. _

_Very well, give me a moment. _

Contacting the rest of the elves, Arya gave them the situation at hand. Leaving them behind was out of the question, those tunnels needed to be gone, and two elves as skilled and powerful as them in the hands of the king was unacceptable. Since it was the last day, they could afford a little mishap here and there.

The tunnels were fairly easily taken care of, the majority of the work was done by them before the soldiers took them in. Their belongings were fetched by two elves who secured the bags on to the horses in the stables. They would be prepared for a run. Five elves had left with the horses relatively unopposed, leaving the rest to save the other two elves. The two Elvin women had left their weapons in their room, caught, and then with weapons was a dangerous proposition.

The time was upon them.

_Raerieth? Where are you in the headquarters? _

_In the main room, the central hold with the head officer in charge. _

_Very well, try not to leave that area. _

Walking in silence, their sounds and bodies masked by magic, the elves snuck in the back door. Using the knife Eragon had given her, Arya made quick work of the first men in front, a decisive throat slice ending their lives. The men in the exterior were taken care of, and none were the wiser.

_Blodhgarm, Ceris, split up, take the men behind the desk, and I shall take care of the men in front. _

_As you wish Drottningu_

_Nari, the men to the right. Raerieth and Tydrenea, the men to your left. _

They sent their agreement through the link, and exploded to their tasks. They made quick work of the soldiers, elements of surprise and superiority quickly overwhelming the human men. But the entire building was filled with them and not to mention the many head quarters around the city. The entire army they could not fight alone.

The elves scampered after freeing their partners and made for the escapes. Blodhgarm and Ceris found the sewer tunnel and escaped through that, the exit somewhere in the woods far from the city. Raerieth and Tydrenea hid in a large hay container heading out of the city and then snuck past the guards.

It was only the princess and Nari left. Nari was making an exit through the gates, his face and voice changed once more.

Arya climbed up the bell tower, her legs nimbly finding the crevices from the top. She heard voices of alarm beneath her and the scamper of some soldiers taking the stairs to reach her, but she would be long gone by then. A running start and a giant leap landed her on the edge of the wall. Some had started firing arrows at her, but none actually made contact. Shifting down the wall, she slid on the slight angle and ran towards the rendezvous point nearly five miles away.

Nari had little less luck. The catastrophe at the headquarters was discovered by a messenger boy and as a result Nari took off running from the area. The soldiers followed him, nearly fifty, but a well placed fire covered his escape.

The elves met a close while later, rare smiles on their faces for a mission succeeded. They were tired, but this was no time to rest. The soldiers would look for them. The energy expended elves took the horses, and the rest ran with the Elvin feet carrying them as fast as possible. It was to Helgrind.

The Rider was at the training grounds, sparring with some Urgals. His Elvin strength easily helped him defeat the massive Kull, and as a result, conquer any doubts of their choice as a leader. He was about to spar with some men looking to increase their skill, but the watchmen sounded the alarm for some fast approaching soldiers from the way of Dras Leona. He could hardly contain his excitement.

Nearly racing to the top of the tower, he made eye contact with the person in front, her deep emerald green eyes intent on looking at him. A smile and her mind reached his in seconds.

Eragon sounded the alarm off, signaling for the gates to be opened and the elves let through.

_Arya, you are safe. _

_I have missed you mate. _

_As have I._

Closing the rest of the distance, the elves ran through the gates before letting themselves a break. Their faces had to be rearranged, much to the horses' pleasure, and for them as well.

_Little princess, you have come back. _

The great dragoness landed near the entrance, her snout touching the princess's forehead.

_I have Saphira, and I have missed you terribly. _

_So have we, dear little one, so have we. _

Engulfing the elf in her wing, Saphira wrapped her neck around her body, the equivalent of a hug. Many of the others were unaccustomed to such open display of affection from the Sapphire dragon, but Saphira was a law unto her herself. As quickly as Saphira had let go, another pair of arms engulfed her, along with the scent of the ocean to her senses.

_Eragon. _

Turning in his arms, she returned the hug with fervor, well aware the Varden had eyes for them. But the princess did not care, she had gone far too long without his arms around her, and that was the simple truth.

The Rider pulled away at first, a broad smile on his face. Greeting the others, he left Arya to go to their room and clean up. After a run like that, no doubt she wanted some cleanliness. Eragon talked with the other elves about their journey and led them to their respectful rooms. It was only for the night, and they needed more rest than the other soldiers. Grateful, but tired, the elves retired quickly and prepared for the march day after tomorrow.

Making his way down to the mess tent, he brought some hot food, namely soup and some sort of pasta again for Arya. She would be hungry after the long journey. Glancing around, he plucked a batch of her favorite fruit, strawberries. They were in season somewhere, and had obviously been imported to the Helgrind some few days ago. He left the food for her, hearing the sounds of water splashing over her body. Arya knew he had entered, the sounds stopped for a brief moment. It was almost unbelievable that she was back. There were far too many times when the entire operation could have fallen to pieces, and luckily it had not.

Grabbing a cotton towel from the hook, the princess left the steaming bathroom.

"Did you unpack the clothes?"

The Rider sat back in the chair opposite her, graced by her voice for the first time. Closing his eyes, he thought about all those attempts to think of her voice, to remember what it felt like to hear the melodious voice emit from her lips.

"Eragon?"

He jumped from his seat, "Sorry, what did you say?"

She chuckled a bit, a smile showing through her lips.

"The clothes Eragon, did you unpack them?"

He shook his head, "I have not been able to sleep lately, especially here, so I laid the sack here and went to Saphira."

It was good to know she was not the only one suffering from insomnia, but humbling nonetheless. She watched as her mate rose from the chair and pulled out her clothes, wordlessly handing them to her, sleeping clothes, a green tunic of hers and the usual felt pants she wore.

Arya pulled the pants on without much thought, but she scrimmaged through Eragon's clothing for a suitable tunic before donning it as well. Finally thinking of rest and relaxation, she ate the food and climbed into bed. It was fairly early for the night, but the lack of rest the past eight days was quickly catching up.

"Should we go by Saphira?"

"No, you are already half asleep."

Eragon slipped under the covers after changing quickly and curled his body around hers. Inhaling her pinecone scent, he whispered he loved her before drifting off to sleep. Her only response was shifting against his body before settling down once again.

The Rider awoke relatively early the next morning, early to bed…early to rise. But this was a rather obscene hour. Quickly realizing he could not go back to sleep, he reluctantly left the haven of the bed…or rather, the haven of the Elvin princess next to him, and took a long, cold water bath. He noiselessly slipped into his Rider's gear, the custom belt and sword attached at his hip. This close to a war, preparation was key. And the elves were due to come in the next few days and they looked forward to their hope properly dressed for his position.

As he was about to leave the room, a stirring prevented the deed. He looked over at Arya, and to his dismay she was tossing in her sleep. Losing his grace, Eragon pulled his boots off and quickly undid his belt before removing it. Sliding back under the covers, he curved an arm his mate and entered her mind to see the cause of such distress.

He was immediately drawn into a vast darkness.

_The only light came from a burning fire on the sidewalk, and there she was…some alley in Dras Leona. Arya had just finished with one of the tunnels before a guard called out to her. The moment of alarm came and went quickly, and she turned towards the soldier. _

_She talked her way out of any question, the soldier was a decent man, a man of high caliber. But that was not problem, the man would be killed either by her hand or someone else's before this battle ended. _

The scene shifted again.

…_This time in the headquarters, it was dark…too dark for comfort of any kind. She was walking quietly, an easy feat for herself. And alas, her friends were in view. With a leap, she easily disposed of the men, only one caught her eye. It was the man from the other day, he had indeed meet his death at her blade. But that was not what concerned her…a ring was on his finger, one she knew had not been there before. She had torn apart two lovers, two people about to enter matrimony. _

_A new wave of guilt came over her. She ran faster and faster from city, but her true enemy seeped deeper and deeper into her head. The images, the faces of the thousands she killed, of the families she destroyed because of this war. _

Madness. This was madness, the thoughts in her head would only serve for more pain. He shoved the memory away, filling her mind only with the love he showered her with. Holding her tighter, he stayed awake next to her for the next some hours, ensuring no memory of hers would come back to haunt her sleep.

The sun had risen fully when the Elvin princess stretched her limbs after the first true sleep in days. Turning her head, she smiled at the elf man stretched beside her, his hair in a beautiful disarray, and his body covered in the clothes of a Rider she loved so much on him.

"Good morning iet nuanen. Sleep well?"

Leaning down, she captured his lips, wondering why she had waited so long to do so.

"Thanks to you, yes."

But he had not heard, he was simply occupied to her mouth, coaxing, melting against her, kissing her for the past days he craved her…he had his needs too. Laughing against her mouth, he conveyed the pure joy inside him at simply having her next to him.

"Why did I wait that long to do that?"

His question went answered with another deepened kiss. He pulled the princess down on top of him, running his hands down her back, willing himself to believe she was next to him, she was real and not the dream he had woken up from consistently the past few days.

But she pulled away first, the truth of their precarious position making itself present. She was worried, and with good reason. Her problem of nightmares might be solved very decisively with her death if the Varden did not know what their findings were. The princess thought one last time of that man she killed, but her despair was wiped away. No doubt the source because of Eragon's own mind deeply embedded within hers. she gave him a small smile, one that showed she was grateful for his actions.

"Come, we must go the council this morning. We have much to discuss."

The familiar leather felt cool to her body, as if she was in a different skin the entire time and was only now able to feel as she truly was. Hurrying down the stairs, Eragon close behind, the princess found the familiar red tent in the midst of the foggy grounds. Stating her name and business, the Nighthawks stepped aside for their entrance. The other elves were already there, waiting for their leader to commence their findings.

"Lady Nasuada."

"Ambassador. The details of the mission if you will."

Clearing her throat, she stepped forth and graced the council with her voice for the longest time she would ever do so.

"The mission was a success. The tunnels are down and the soldiers cannot weave their way through. However, the mission produced some other staggering findings."

Arya did a quick glance at all the military leaders, then cast the spell so no listeners would hear what she said next.

"We have twenty thousand soldiers ready for battle, that is all. The Urgals that came are perhaps three thousand in number, and together we are less than a quarter of the army of Dras Leona. The city stands guard with one hundred thousand men behind a wall nearly fifty feet tall, and we are attacking. Slaughter is definite, we have no force."

"And the elves, they are coming as we speak."

"Lady Nasuada, the elves are skilled warriors, but not numerous, they are but ten thousand strong. And the total combination of our forces is insufficient. The city inside is in shambles, but the gate is impenetrable. We do not have enough."

General Halton, usually the quickest to lose hope surprisingly changed views this day.

"We have faced odds before, fifteen against seventy."

She twister her head in his direction, facing him with a pained expression.

"And we were behind the walls of Feinster then, not them. We had the protection of a wall and with fifteen thousand we were able to fend them off, and they are one hundred thousand, even if we doubled our number, we would still stand chance at losing."

"Elf, we have a Rider. You cannot discount him, eh Argetlam?"

That was the tone that irked Arya the most, and Chief Freowin could be the most annoying of them all. Her voice changed from pleading to caustic in a matter of a second, her face turned hard and all the elves looked at her to see how she would defend that particular insult on her kind.

"Dwarf, we have one Rider who is not invincible, we have one dragon who not invincible either. If they are surrounded, even they can die. And they shall with these numbers. But I will praise your death if you can simply reach the door handle on the gate."

The elves had a wry smile on their face, but Eragon knew offending this particular dwarf was disastrous at best.

"That is enough! We are wasting precious time by arguing." Hopefully establishing the center of the discussion would play over the elf-dwarf feud.

"Give me a map of the city."

Jarsha was first to answer the call. He pulled a map from the cylindrical box, it was Jeod's no doubt.

"This is the outlay of the city, if we can destroy the wall at the critical point, we can destroy Dras Leona. We have strength in that we can choose where we fight." He looked around for confirmation of his words, but none came. They were losing hope and he did not even begin to speak.

"We must pick a spot where not many of them can exit and fight comfortably, a place where only a few can fight from the many, and like this, as more and more are killed, we will press forward."

Pulling a quill from the desk, he marked the entrance point.

"Here, this place is opposite the bell tower of Dras Leona, there is only some twenty feet from the base to the gate, we can trap them here, lure them in and take them at a bunch at a time. We can create a device, instead of them preventing us from going in, we shall prevent them from coming out in large numbers."

"And what, O Rider, will make them come out?"

He glanced at the dwarf, short statured with an arrogance that could do any man harm.

"They will fear the inside of their city walls because the last free Dragon will set it ablaze."

The elves had smirks on their faces, the power in his voice, the promise of darkness in his words converting them to whatever evil he planned for the Empire soldiers.

"We let whatever number we can handle out at a time, kill them, while Saphira and I attack them from above. We shall also prevent, that way, any other exiting so the Varden soldiers will not be surrounded. Thirty three thousand with twelve thousand elves, fifteen thousand Urgals, ten thousand men and six thousand dwarves, a force of thirty three thousand warriors, experienced and bred for battle against a force of one hundred thousand men forced to lay down their pitchforks and pick up a sword and shield. They are not warriors, they have numbers, and no will. We can win this battle, we must."

Nasuada sank back down in her chair, the Varden leader knew there was no better way, and this battle had to be taken before more of the Empire occupied the city.

"Very well, it is this plan we will use for the battle tactics. Is there anyway we can ensure they stay inside the wall, not come out at any entrance and surround us?"

Blodhgarm spoke next, "It might be a stretch but the water source that runs through the city has wells and sewer lines everywhere, we can use the water and freeze the wall off, use the water and create a block of ice in front of the gate, it is the best way to ensure no one has access to the outside."

"Then it is settled, that is what we shall do."

Eragon was about to give his agreement, but a melodious, ethereal horn sounded in the distance.

"It's the elves! The elves have come!"

That commotion was enough to break up the council. The twelve spellcasters, along with the other elves in Commander Alinor's company immediately headed to greet their Queen. Eragon and Arya were close on their heels, and Saphira had already flown overhead.

The elves always had a serenity, a sense of pure superiority, they were hardened warriors with a refined elegance none other had. They came, their bows made of curvy smooth wood, all identical. They all carried a quiver on top of cotton cloaks and various blades underneath. They were a magnificent sight to behold.

The Queen stepped forward, her golden helm glinting in the sunlight.

"We have come Lady of the Varden, come to fight alongside for the Battle of Dras Leona."

The Elvin march was coordinated, in rows of five across, and in perfect synchronization. Eragon bowed to the Elvin Queen, initiating the Elvin greeting properly. She gave him a warm smile before completing it and turning to her daughter and Saphira. No one knew Arya was the Queen's daughter, that particular secret was still well kept among the Varden.

Most of the elves gave them a nod or a bow before making their way through the streets of Helgrind and setting up their tents. The march would not stop until the city was reached and that loomed over the horizon, it would be a long battle. There was something eerie about Dras Leona, something no one wanted to talk about, especially his father. It was as if some evil lurked in the shadows, some unaccountable factor.

"There is nothing to worry yourself over as of now, iet Shurtugal. And I have something to give you."

She pressed the emerald orb back into its place on his Belt of Beloth the Wise.

"Thank you for it, I used the energy more than I thought I would."

A smile graced his lips, but he said nothing.

The walk to Dras Leona was quiet the next day. It was a steady rhythm, the soldiers lined with their companies, marching one foot in front of the next, a mindless endeavor. Even Eragon was silent, he led the Urgal company in front, Arya was riding Saphira, scouting from the air, seeing if the Empire tried anything spontaneous.

_Iet Drottningu? What do you see? _

_They are getting ready Eragon, archers are there, but the wall is not wide enough to fit men up there. They are looking through the gate, getting prepared. _

_The women and children. _

_I do not see them anywhere, they must have taken refuge somewhere else. This is where the tunnels started, Eragon, nearly five miles from the actual gated community. _

_It is fortunate Darius told us this. _

_Indeed. _

The horn marking their approach sounded, the Urgals started their chanting and pounding, connecting their weapons with the ground in a haunting sound. Saphira landed as they came to a halt, the soldiers were already showing signs of fear. This battle would be a sure loss if the Varden lost hope.

Gathering his wits, Eragon mounted Saphira and flew in front of the honed army.

"Men of the Varden! Dwarves of the Mountains! Urgals of the Caves! Elves of the Forest! This battle will prove your mettle! Your determination! Your desire! I was told a time will come when the four races of Alagaesia will look for strength in each other to overcome a common enemy. And that time has come! For those titles are not yours any longer! You are all Warriors of Alagaesia! And so I plead Warriors of Alagaesia! Fight as one force! Fight for each other! And I shall fight with you!"

He raised his blue flaming sword and pointed to the elves and shouted in the Ancient Language, "Upon my power as an elf!"

Swinging it to the dwarves he shouted in the Dwarven tongue, "Upon my honor as a dwarf!"

To the Urgals, "Upon my strength as your Firesword!"

And finally to his own men, "Upon my heart as a man!"

"Upon my word as a Rider! I will fight for you!"

The warriors greeted him with the shouts and cries that could undo even the king himself. They were fierce and they were looking for a battle. Turning his body around, Eragon pointed his sword toward the wall and initiated the attack.

A group of Urgals charged, a large pointed metal apparition made to break the wall. Saphira and Eragon flew overhead, and one large breath from Saphira lit the Empire soldiers on fire. Screams could be overhead. Just a while longer and the wall would be broken. The archers targeted the large dragon, but the wards prevented any arrows from actually hitting her. It was better this way, the arrows were not targeting the very killable targets on the other side of the wall.

_Shadeslayer the wall has been broken. _

_Good, move the barricades in place within twenty minutes. _

_Yes Shadeslayer. _

Eragon flew over, the soldiers were trying to get out of the city, the flames were rampant behind them. A select few tried to move out of the city in a different place, but that was easily preventable.

_Saphira, fly over the sewage waters. _

The giant dragoness did as he asked. It was a while since they had flown with their minds connected like this, he missed it greatly.

"Adurna!" The water rose from the small streams, and to his demand contorted itself so it was plastered against the stone wall. With another word in the Ancient Language the water turned into an unbreakable layer of ice drawing energy from the soldiers who tried to break it to prevent the melting.

_Saphira, we should start back to the main encampment and rid the soldiers from the other end. _

_Yes Little one. _

_Arya? Are you there? _

_Yes, what is it? _

_How is the battle going down there?_

_We are fine, the men are being easily discarded, we have only lost a few men and dwarves, other than that, we are stable. _

_Good, we will take care of the men on the other side. Stay safe. _

_As you will. _

Eragon felt it again, the large eerie sensation coming from within him, as if something evil was on the move. He closed the link to Arya, something they did only when in battle, and moved on to the other soldiers. Whether it was wise or not, he discarded the notion well within him. Saphira flew over the bell tower, emitting another large fiery blaze on the soldiers. The Rider pointed his sword to the ground, shouting 'Kyevkya' at distinct points. Shocks were more effective, much like an arrow.

Glancing for another target, he looked to his side. A dark hooded figure was gazing at him, his face was undistinguishable. It was a priest of some sort, the cloak proving it, the chain around his neck was of two snakes intertwining in one another, some symbol of the practices these immoral priests undertook. He brushed it off, even though he knew that somehow, the source of his uneasiness was caused by that hooded figure. He looked for the man again, but it was too late, the figure had left.

_Eragon focus! _

_Right, sorry. _

Pulling more water, he lifted it so it was nearly a foot deep where the soldiers were, hitting the water with a flash of lightning, the Rider watched as the soldiers flew up in the air with the explosion, their hearts mostly definitely dead with the electrocution. Another blaze from Saphira admitted more screams from them, and the soldiers raced away.

_We are opening the gate once more. _

Blodhgarm's voice rang in his head before the barricade was removed by two Kull. Saphira flew over head and the soldiers fled the scene, not wanting anything to do with a death by electrocution or fire. The Rider watched as nearly two thousand soldiers filed out this time, met by a barricade of the Varden's full forces. No race was getting tired, not even the men. The adrenaline surge was far too great in the group.

It continued for several more hours, the attack on both fronts. The Varden's soldiers were tired, medical tents were set up, but they were still strong. Nearly half of the Empire's soldiers remained while the Varden was sitting well on a little less than thirty one thousand soldiers left.

Eragon's Elvin eyes spotted the hooded figure again, but this time it was heading outside the gates, a strange glow emitting from its palm.

_Saphira, I need to get out now! That man has come back. _

_Very well, we shall fly out. _

The dragon flew over the Varden and Eragon jumped off, swiftly running through the army cutting any enemy.

"Eragon why are you here?"

Arya came to stand next to him, she was bloodied, but it was not her own.

"I think there is something we did not account for. A priest is comin-"

A blast knocked the Rider off his feet, Arya was thrown into the distance, a few soldiers impaled themselves on Urgal stakes. And in the center was that man.

"Riderrrr, you have yet to ssseeee the power of Drasss Leona."

He was sickly snake voice, hissing at every turn he could muster. The Rider did not have time for this. He lifted himself up, checked to see if his mate was okay and drew his sword.

"Jierda." Eragon expected to hear a crack, but none came, only a sinister laugh.

"That won't work on me Riderrrrr."

He furrowed his eyebrows, "Who are you?"

"It doesss not matterrr. You have failed your people."

The priest held up his hand and in an instant, Eragon was immobilized. He tried frantically the break the bonds, but nothing would work.

_Little one! I am coming! _

"Eragon!"

Shouts from Saphira and Arya signaled their approach. Another flick of his wrist and Arya was against the wall, her hands clutching her throat, struggling to breathe.

"Let her go!"

Another hiss of laughter. Saphira's blue wings could be seen, but a concentration on the priest's part brought her tumbling down in a decisive crash, her wings unable to move.

_Saphira! _

_I cannot move little one! I am fading as I am! _

_No! Hang on! Stay alive and I will get you out!_

But even then his consciousness was fading from the lack of oxygen. He saw elves, men, dwarves and Urgals valiantly fight for his life, but even they were thrown into the shadows.

"Here issss a measssure of true powerrrr."

Eragon watch in horror as the dead and mangled bodies of the Empire soldiers rose from the ground and began attacking again. Even when they were cut down they would not stop. Instead biting and latching like vampires, scratching at whatever. Screaming, screeching monsters of the dark.

"I am a masssster in Dark Magic. None of your pitiful attempts to slay me will work Varden. Die! Die all of you!"

His howling laughter echoed over, and soon the Varden's number of injured were rising exponentially. Eragon looked to the skies, the sun burning his eyes, and he finally closed them.

Saphira's screams of Little one faded away, Arya's rapping at his head even ceased.

And he opened his eyes again – in a dream.

"_Eragon Bromsson. Welcome to the land of the Grey Folk." _

_He spun around at the voice. A strong man, someone he recognized as Vrael stood before him. The old Rider was in pure white clothes, gold tread design on the tunic. He was a happy, peaceful looking man. Glancing at his surroundings, he took in what he saw. _

_It was a meadow, flowers, lilies of the rarest and most exotic of colors grew from the very edges of the meadow back. Water was flowing somewhere, a waterfall leading into a river. In the distance, mountains that put the Beor Mountains to shame stood proud and tall. _

"_Am I dead? Is that why I am here?" _

_He laughed. "No, I suspect my son would have asked the same question however. Or at least that was what his step father Holcomb told me." _

"_Then why am I here?" _

_Vrael glanced at the surroundings, taking a deep breath. _

"_This is a place of sanctuary. A place where those of the Grey Folk find the source of their power, the source of their essence, the reason why they are chosen. Brom only came here once, and that was after his Saphira died in battle." _

"_What am I fighting for?" _

"_Take a seat, and tell me what you see." _

_The Rider did as he was asked, "I see flowers, rivers, tall trees, a bright sun, angelic clouds, a picture of perfection." _

"_Yes, nothing evil is here, am I right?" _

"_Nothing evil is here." _

_Eragon was confused, he did not understand. _

"_Eragon, this is your inner world. The inner world of all Grey Folk. All things pure, and nothing evil. Long ago, nearly tens of thousands of years, there was a creation. The source of that creation is unknown. Perhaps it left us, or perhaps it was by chance. We have never known. But this creation was made in balance. Air and water, earth and land, mountains and valleys, lightning and thunder, fire and water, wind and trees. Each has a counterpart. These are the physical counterparts, and it is from these physical counterparts that magicians find their power from. But even deeper, there is a higher, much more vast balance and that is the power of Good and Evil, Darkness versus Light. That man was a master in the Dark Arts, a user of Dark magic and that cannot be countered by this physical counterparts. It can only be countered by you." _

"_Why me?" _

"_Because you are the Good, you are the Light. The land has been thrown off balance in the power of the Dark, and that is why evil lurks the land like a shadow following a man. Dark is in power right now, the last of the Light had faded and it took nearly a century for the Light to find one of its own…you Eragon Bromsson. You are one of the Light. The only one of the Light. You are the one to bring balance and that is the true purpose of the Grey Folk, that is why you were brought here today. The Grey Folk are the Light, we are the source of Light. And this power is far more powerful than that Dark magic wielder. You can, of course, stay here. After all, you technically are dead." _

"_But I have a choice, I can go back to my old life without any effects." _

_Vrael nodded, a ghost of smile. _

"_I do no understand. How is that possible?" _

"_Death is an interesting phenomena. Dying causes many different routes, some pass into the afterlife, others go in forms of spirits, forever made to roam the earth. You should pass into the afterlife, but because you have not reached your full potential, your life is still incomplete, and because your life is incomplete, a premature death can be countered by sheer power of will. You are not so dead you cannot return, only unconscious, where your mind cannot be reached." _

"_I need to go back." _

"_I thought as much. Close your eyes and think of the one thing to motivate you. Good Luck Eragon Bromsson, may your time be better Fated than mine." _

Eragon closed his eyes and seconds later he was back in his battered body. Saphira's screams and Arya's echoes resumed their pounding in his head.

"You are sstill alive. You sssurprisse me Riderrrr."

His voice laced with determination, he stood up, the immobility now seeming weak.

"I am no mere Rider Dark Magician."

The sun shone behind him, the Light from the world he was entrusted in flowing through his veins. Finally the craving in him subsided, it came through in the presence of Evil and unleashed itself. The glow of the sun nearly blinded the priest, two hands came up to protect his face, and Arya and Saphira were released, gasping for breath.

Eragon lifted his hand, concentrating on the zombies the dark magic had created and slowly the sun had burned them to the ground, a strange white light emitting from their bodies.

Alarm rose in the priest's eyes, "No! No! This cannot be! You cannot be!"

"I am a Grey Folk, wielder of the Light. And you will find your end Lord of Evil."

Eragon drew Brisingr and launched himself into the air. The dark priest raised a staff, fervently blocking his movements with a clumsy stance. Within a few minutes, he was panting. In one smooth motion, the Rider jumped into the air and plunged his flaming sword hilt deep into the dark priest's heart.

A hiss of a scream emitted, Eragon tried to dislodge the sword but it would not come out. And then slowly the blue flames turned white, and inside the priest the same white light from the risen soldiers emitted, and he was screaming without reserve. Some twenty seconds later, the priest burst into pieces, the sun burning each and every one into pure ash.

_Little one…_

Saphira sagged on the ground next to him, her snout barely holding him up.

"Oh Saphira." Saying the words out loud strengthened his relief that she was alright. And Arya, he had to find her.

Still strong in his hand, Eragon leaned on his sword as he sought out the princess. She was against the wall, breathing hard, but a hint of a smile on her face. Clumsily making his way over, he sank in the ground next to her.

"Are you alright?"

"I am now." Her voice was laced with joy at simply being able to speak once more.

"Shadeslayer! Are you alright?"

The furry elf made his way over quickly.

"Yes Blodhgarm, we are all alright. How bad is the damage?"

"We lost twenty in that man's attack, nearly fifty more with the zombies, but we are still able to fight."

Nodding his understanding, Eragon pulled energy from the precious stones and replenished Arya's strength enough before doing the same to himself and Saphira. There was still a battle to fight.

_Little one, stay here and fight. I shall go over the wall and scare them once again. It takes less energy for land fighting. _

_Thank you Saphira. _

_Be careful. _

_And you as well. _

The blue dragoness lifted herself in the air, instigating the screams from the other side. Signaling the Urgals to open the barricade, Eragon readied himself for the onslaught. There was still half of the Dras Leona army to finish off. The Rider stood close with Arya, it was better if they looked after each other. Four eyes on the same surroundings was better than two.

A group of five soldiers attacked them at first, the others trying their hardest to surround the two elves. But that feat was easier said than done. Arya nimbly kicked one soldier's legs, breaking it instantly before turning her attention to the throats of two charging men. With their necks successfully severed, the princess plunged her sword through the injured soldier's neck.

Eragon was having similar results. He parried through four soldiers attack, ridding one with breaking the soldier's head with the back of his hand, another by lopping the head off, another by slashing across the chest, and the last by plunging through his stomach.

The soldiers were neither excessively skilled nor talented, they were regular soldiers. Those who enlisted with hopes of money for their family, and opted for little training in their time with the army. With twelve thousand battle honed elves with them, fifty thousand amateur soldiers were little cause for concern. The only casualties the Varden suffered were the occasional mishaps here and there, other than that, it was injuries that took the Varden from the battle field.

In the end, nearly twenty thousand men were in the medical tents, the rest helped with the healing or pulled the tent back into the city of Dras Leona. The self mutilating priests had all but a few died in the crossfire, the rest confined themselves in a temple on the outskirts of the city.

Saphira had retired early for the evening, finding a suitable place near the lake before closing her weary eyelids and falling asleep. His Riderly duties completed, Eragon waited for Arya to finish her rounds before walking with her to Saphira's resting place. They did not need a tent, the weather was still quite beautiful after the battle. Instead, the pulled a mattress from the large sack and laid down next to Saphira's warm belly.

He tried closing his eyes, tried to let his weary body sleep, but found he could not. Instead, Eragon rested his head over Arya's chest, his head finding its usual position in the nook of her shoulder, while his hand laid gently on her abdomen, his thumb stroking gently over his soft cotton tunic she had changed into. It was a habit that she no longer wore her clothes to bed, but rather his.

"What is wrong iet Shurtugal? The battle is won yet your mind is clouded."

Her own voice was lacking resolve, she had come so close to losing him. Arya thought she did, his mind was blank, for some time, the princess could not enter his mind at all, there was no signal. And his skin had turned cold, his movements gone. Her arms curved around his head and neck, resting over his rising back.

"I almost lost you Arya. You and Saphira. I never want to go through that again."

"Where did you go?"

"It would be easier to show you." And he did, across the link Eragon sent the memory of where he was, Vrael and the true meaning of the Grey Folk.

"It was worthwhile then."

He furrowed his eyebrows, "What was worthwhile?"

"To get that power unlocked, you let the world believe you had died, it was at least worthwhile, why you left your body as you did."

Lifting his head up, he gazed in her emerald orbs. His finger absently traced her cheek, savoring the feel of her cool skin against his warmer hands. Lowering his head down, he rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes.

"I am sorry Arya. I did not know, all I saw was white, I truly thought I was dying."

Her hands ran over his bare torso, it was habit that he slept without one. She traced the muscles on his abdomen, before winding their way back up to feel the warm skin of his muscled neck and artistic face.

"I was afraid that I lost you forever, and I thought that once again, I would be left in a world without the one I loved."

He rested his body on his elbows, completely on top of her and slowly lowered his body down. Eragon lifted his hands so they held her neck straight at him, never forceful, gently moving over her ear. She felt his massaging fingers on the nape of her neck, and then his lips were on hers.

_Iet evarínya nuanen__, I would never resign you to such a fate. I love you far too much to leave. _

Arya smiled against him, remembering his words. 

_Our lives are wasted on thinking about what has happened and what has yet to happen. We cannot change the past and we cannot know the future. What we do have is the ability to control our decisions at every waking moment. _

There was no point in thinking of what has not happened. The only thing she could do is thank fate that her mate came back from the gates of death for her. A phenomenon in itself. Raising her arms around his neck, Arya drew his body closer to her, basking in warmth he provided. A battle had been won, and for the time being, the battle until spring was won. There would be no more battles until spring, and sure enough, the leaves of autumn had finally begun to fall that night. Winter came early in this part of the world, something to do with the tilt of the earth being away from the sun, or so an elf said.

Eragon felt Arya huddle closer to him, most likely the chill from the outside getting to her. He wrapped a thick forearm around her waist, ensuring she was protected from the cold as much as possible. With the knowledge that all was well in his world, Eragon fell asleep, underneath the wing of his dragon, and protected by the love of the Elvin princess.


	15. Chapter 40 Not so Festive Festivity

Chapter 40: A Not so Festive Festivity

An abandoned city for housing the nearly one hundred thousand members of the Varden, women, children, and soldiers included was actually quite perfect. Slowly, but surely, the original inhabitants of Dras Leona came back, but the Varden faced little opposition from them. They lived in fear of the Empire soldiers and monks who were neck deep in a large slave trade, and with that threat gone, the people were willing to side with whoever wielded the big sword. Which left nearly six months to prepare for the next battle.

According to Nasuada, the last Empire stronghold was the capital itself. Galbatorix had no other place to recruit from, they would be isolated economically. Six months without economic support would be hard for the city to last through, and since the force of those soldiers was in a number unheard of, the Varden needed them starving and ready to fall before they attacked. This was the plan from the beginning, and Eragon counted it as the after glory of a battle won that made all the races agree to a time limit.

It was a beautiful sight to behold, the constant changing map of Alagaesia. The increasing blue territories or places the Varden had already captured were ever increasing until the last red axe on the map was of the Empire's symbol.

Dras Leona would take weeks to get back on its economic route, the only difference now being that it catered to the Varden and Varden territories only. It took until the middle of fall to properly heal every single one of the veterans of Battle of Dras Leona. New recruits joined nearly every day, hoping for a spot in the historical battle of Uru'baen. Men all over Alagaesia came to the Varden to start a new life, and many of them enlisted and began their training immediately.

Eragon, on the other hand, thought it best to relax in the half a year, but his own duties did nothing to help him achieve that goal.

One week after the battle and the city was on its way back to bustling about. Dras Leona being a major city before and after the fall, a Dragonhold was centered above the main castle gates. The ruler, Marcus Tabor, lived in that residence…until he suffered an unremarkable death at the hands of a beserking Kull. That Kull apparently did not recognize who he was facing, and ripped the man in half. The only reason he was identified was the seal of Empire, given to the highest authority in the city, was found on a man's arm.

Truly, Tabor's death was fitting. He did not die a martyr, no honorable last surge, nothing of the sorts, a dog's death for the animal bastard he was. Eragon knew Tabor had betrayed Galbatorix in some way a few years back, and the result of the visit could only have meant placing a dark magician in the power of the religious cult, forcing Tabor's obedience under the power of the temple, which was subsequently abused by the king himself. Tabor, traitor as he was, ruthlessly commanded his armies and people, and their fear of him demanded their loyalty to him as well. Since Tabor was irreplaceable, Galbatorix put a close check on him, or so one of the captured priests said before being sentenced to death for heinous crimes against the public including sacrificing children, pregnant women, and the elderly, and not excluding being the primary severer of people from their limbs.

Much to the people's delight, the temple was knocked down for material purposes, namely the gate fixing, after a large deposit of amputated limbs were discovered in a bottomless pit. Saphira, happy to help, lit the oil covered body parts on fire in order to keep the disease from spreading elsewhere. The city stank of burning flesh for some days, but the beautiful thing about potpourri was that herbalists had a never ending supply of it and Angela placed the particularly strong scent near the burning pit. Psychologically, Eragon feared he would now associate burning bodies with a tulip scent.

Arya had laughed at his thoughts – bringing him back to the present. He was now comfortably residing on the high balcony overlooking the Leona Lake. Arya was happily curled in his arms and Saphira was hunting for food. She was getting antsy about hunting in her favorite place, the Spine once more.

It was their day off, not that any pressing business was there, but a day off nonetheless. Eragon took to writing poetry as of late, and Arya always seemed to be the inspiration of his words. It was as if no other topic held even the slightest more of interest to him. He tried Saphira, but their bond was rather inexplicable to him.

"Barzul! Eragon we are late!"

A look of confusion came across his face, "Late, late for what?"

The princess gave him an exasperated look. "Tea! What else are we late for?"

"Arya, iet nuanen, how can we be late for tea here?"

Raising an eyebrow, she clarified, "Not here, Rider, with my mother."

Comprehension flooded his features as he sprang from the easy chair and laced his boots. Arya was quicker however, and was already waiting by the door.

"Arya, I do not remember tea with your mother."

She thought for a moment, a comical sight when she was racing down the stairs, "No wonder, I never actually told you."

"Ah, well, that explains a lot."

She mock chuckled before slowing to a more dignified pace in public. Weaving her way through the Varden buildings, she came across Queen Islanzadi's room, a former soldier headquarter close to the center of the city. She, unfortunately, was on the top floor as well.

The room was marked with the symbol of the Drottning family line – a large leaf holding two swords as if it was a platter. This symbol was the same as the symbol on the ring Arya occasionally wore for ceremonies like Oromis's and Glaedr's funeral, and other court ceremonies where her distinction as a princess was made. For fear of having her true identity revealed, the princess took the ring off when in public to prevent observant eyes from the making the connection. She had made that mistake once, Ajihad had noticed the symbol, but luckily kept her identity a secret. Not even Nasuada knew of Arya's past, and she wanted it that way.

Arya knocked on the door a few times before a call from the inside came.

"Arya, Eragon is that you?"

"Yes, mother, we are here." The princess did not care here, the entire Elvin population knew Arya was the Queen's daughter, whether or not they lived under a rock.

"Good, give me a few minutes."

Eragon sighed, leaning against the wall in front of the door. "Elvin women and their impeccable sense of time."

A silencing glare and a raised eyebrow on Arya's part instigated a small chuckle, but she went to him anyway, a hip poised lazily against the wall, facing him. A hand rested on his bicep as they waited for the Elvin Queen to grant them access. Normally, she would place her hand over his shoulder, but their relationship was far more intimate than a simple gesture of contact. The door methodically opened as a regal Elvin woman stood behind door. She beckoned them in with a small wave and motioned to a table.

The smell of a pot brewing some interesting concoction wafted into the room, Eragon was not one for tea besides Arya's favorite, but this one smelled particularly good.

"Eragon, I must admit you are quite the inspirational speaker. All the elves felt slightly upbeat after your speech on the battlefield. Was it rehearsed?"

He smiled, a tad uncomfortable with the praise.

"No, Your Majesty, it was not rehearsed."

"Ah! Well, that should be no surprise considering your proficiency with words. The poem you wrote nearly three some years ago was quite extraordinary. Our scholars are still finding new and hidden meanings behind your words. Remarkable, truly remarkable."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

An awkward silence followed, social gatherings were not a forte of the Rider's especially when the woman was the Elvin equivalent of his mother-in-law, who also happened to be the leader of the most powerful group of warriors was part of them. Arya slipped her hand into his, lacing his fingers. She had a wry smile on her face, as if trying hard not to laugh at the situation.

It was nearly thirty seconds before the Queen spoke again. Arya, barzul, was not one for words that particular morning. 

"So tell me, how is it that I am sitting in front of two Shadeslayers? I must admit, the stories of both have evaded me."

Eragon glanced at Arya, "Well, considering I was partly dead at both times, I trust you will remember it better."

The princess chuckled, but continued the conversation.

"Durza had blown through a wall and Eragon was caught in the fray. He made quick work of the Urgals, even in his tired state, but the battle with Durza was quickly taking his toll. After a physical battle, Durza's sword came slashing across Eragon's back, and he was rendered practically unable to move from the pain. Saphira and I were flying down to him, but we could not reach him in time, and in my haste, I broke the Isidar Mithrim, distracting Durza. In one motion, from where he got the strength I know not, Eragon picked up Zar'roc, yelled Brisingr and plunged it in the Shade's heart. After that, he fell unconscious from the blood loss of his wound."

The Queen sank back in her chair, "An interesting story, now how did you come to Angela's tent afterward?"

"I do not know, Your Highness."

Arya supplied the information, "I tried as best as I could to stop the bleeding. I pulled him on to Saphira's saddle and we both flew to Angela as quickly as possible."

_Did I ever thank you for that? _

_You did not know Eragon. _

_Thank you. _

_It was nothing to be thankful for. _

She grasped his hand tighter and waited for her mother's reaction.

"And your Shade Arya, how did that come about?"

"At that time, Eragon and I infiltrated Feinster's keep, we did not find Lady Lorana, but we did come across a few magicians attempting to create a Shade. Unfortunately, before they could be disposed of, they succeeded in creating Varaug. At that time, Eragon was experiencing lapses in his conscious state because of Glaedr's eldunari and the battle with the Red Rider. I tried my best to fight the Shade, but he overpowered me quickly. Varaug had me up against a wall, and was about to kill me when Eragon attacked the Shade with his mind, and broke his barriers. I was then able to pierce its heart and destroy it."

"Quite the story, I must say, quite the story. Remarkable, both events. Never have I heard such acts of bravery. On to less depressing of events. When is your cousin's baby due?"

"In a few weeks, she is eight, maybe, eight and a half months along."

"An October child then. Evander was born in October. Arya had a summer birthday, sometime in the month of July."

Eragon looked at her, "You never told me your birthday had passed."

Shrugging, she easily replied, "I never placed much importance on growing a year older when I would have an endless number of years."

"When is it?"

"July 8th."

"And your date of birth Rider, when is it?"

"Truthfully, I do not know. I only know it was sometime in the second or third week of February, I usually counted myself a year older when the time had passed."

"Interesting indeed."

And like this, they moved on to topics of increasingly less importance. Eragon did his best to entertain the Queen, but the task grew mundane after literally three hours of nonstop conversation. A rap on the door and a summons from Saphira saved him. It was only after he and Arya left that he realized he never actually drank any tea – another thought that promoted a slight chuckle on his mate's part.

The air was getting colder, no longer did the long, thin, cotton tunics serve their purpose. A long, thicker cloak was needed to protect their bodies from the chill.

"Oy! Shadeslayer!"

Eragon turned to the voice, it was General Halton. The elderly general was a mix between walking and jogging over to him.

"General, what is it?"

"Nothing of much importance, however, with the recent successes of the Varden, Lady Nasuada has organized a sort of celebration in two weeks time. The venue is the Grand Hall of the late Tabor's castle. Since you were not at the meeting this morning, not that it was important, Lady Nasuada asked me to pass along the message to you and Ambassador."

"Thank you General, we shall be there."

Arya answered for them, she was not keen on these celebrations, but it could not be prevented.

"Iet Drottningu, how about a spontaneous trip to Ellesmera?"

An artistic arch of her eyebrow was the cause of a casual shrug. It was not that Eragon truly wanted to abandon the Varden at a time when defense was key, but these dinner parties, the dressing up, the festivity was rather mundane.

"It will not be so bad this time."

He smiled, it would be never so bad with Arya and Saphira at the festive affair.

"What do you wish to do today?" The smile was still clear in his voice, it seemed as if he could not stop smiling these days.

"The weather is getting colder, and I would like to take a walk before we are unable to. I have never truly seen Leona Lake besides the casual glance."

Lacing his fingers through hers, Eragon led them to the gate, "Now is as good as a chance as any."

A gale of wind passed nearly every minute, but it was not so drastic that either of them shivered. Eragon stared at their entwined hands swinging between their bodies. Even after their time together he could not believe she had fallen in love with him. He knew from the beginning he never deserved her, or was worthy enough to be her mate. She pulled out of his grasp, only to curve her arm around his waist.

"Do not think like that, the thoughts serve little purpose else but to reminisce on your faults, and I do not see those as clearly as you do."

His smiled and curved his arm around her, bringing her closer into his body. Her words always served to make him feel better about…nearly anything. They walked mainly in silence, an occasional comment on the beauty of their surroundings, but how it paled in comparison to the wonderful sights of Du Weldonvarden. The lake was calm enough, only the occasional tree branch hovering near the bank or a small fish reaching to the surface disrupted the still appearance. The water was fairly deep, but not so deep Saphira could not see the massive amounts of prey that lay in the water. She, unfortunately, was not fond of fish. The fleshier meat on the bones of animals was far more appetizing than the white layer underneath scales. But Eragon knew it was the scales that turned her away, something about not wanting to eat an animal with the similar skin texture or make up as hers. It was why she avoided eating lizards and snakes as well, but those she would have stayed away from in any case. Bad tasting meat, and even less filling than other animals.

"We have five months and a half to spare in Dras Leona."

Arya was right. Perhaps the fact of five months never truly hit him until now, five months and two weeks, some one hundred sixty-four days without having to plan battles or even think in a bloody fashion. Well…the dinner party affair might turn bloody, depending on how many men made utter fools of themselves when drunk. The first time Eragon drank, Brom made him drunk. And the morning after was a hell like no other. From then on, he stayed away from more than a glass of wine. Faelnirv, he was not so keen on handling.

"Drunk? I have never seen you drunk."

He laughed a bit, "Oh, it is not a pretty sight, I assure you."

"I think you would be rather amusing drunk."

He arched an eyebrow and looked at her for some time. When she returned his gaze, he shook his head with a new fervor.

"Saphira will tell you if you ask. She was not happy with me at all. I would if I could, but I simply do not remember much. I only remember the first couple of drinks, that is as far as my memory goes."

"Sounds about right for the first time. I have never taken more than a glass of faelnirv, or a glass of a good wine or two, depending on whether or not the nobles that irk me were present."

"And which nobles are those?"

"One called Marthean, another with the name Venemean, Althose, Mayon, and a few others, the names slip me. But all of them pursued a suit with me at one point in my life."

"Quite a list."

"You have nothing to be jealous about."

"Did you ever consider them?"

"Oh of course I did. Marthean believed in drinking games. Venemean could not hit a target for the life of him. Althose was too absorbed in books to even continue a conversation with me. Mayon was a rather pompous swordsman that I beat within two minutes. And the others…I simply do not remember."

"I take it you were being sarcastic."

She turned with an indignant look on her face, "Of course I was Eragon. They held little interest to me. They were not the Elvin men I could give my heart to, and neither did their idea of a successful relationship match mine. I rejected them within a few hours of meeting most. Within five minutes for Mayon actually."

"I cannot say I am not thoroughly unhappy about that."

She nudged his side playfully, "They are not even comparable to you Iet Shurtugal, you had nothing to fear from them in the first place."

Shrugging sheepishly, he returned back to her side, curving his arm around her waist once more as they continued across the edge of the lake. The ground being relatively flat, there were no cliffs and rock formation as the ocean side had. It was calmer, the water was far stiller, the waves never reached past the middle of Eragon's calf. The complete opposite of the crashing waves along the beach. It was calm in way, but not as soothing as his previous experience with large bodies of water.

"What was it like Eragon? Being in the lair of the Grey Folk, finding that place. I knew what happened, but your emotions were clouded almost, as if they had started to fade away since you left that place. What was it like?"

It was a tough question. He truly had somewhat forgotten what his feelings were.

"I cannot place it. It was awe, I was struck in pure wonderment. The world, the land, the water, the mountains they were all so perfect. Yet I was not as amazed as I should have been. It was beautiful, very beautiful. Anyone could live happily in a place like that, but I had mixed feelings. In that place, neither Saphira nor you existed, and for that I resented it. For that I…never placed that world among the most beautiful that I have ever seen."

The Rider felt her hand squeeze his tighter, "And what are the most beautiful things you have ever seen?"

"Honestly, the time Saphira hatched, the first time she breathed fire, the Beor Mountains, the sunlight after being held in Gilead, and when waking up from the Battle of Farthen Dur, Oromis and Glaedr-elda, the forests of Ellesmera, the Menoa Tree…"

He stopped, his voice trailing off into the oblivion as if unsure of whether or not to continue.

"What else Eragon?" She prompted him, there would be no secrets between them. Arya would not stand for it.

He sighed, his voice shuddering slightly, "The first time I truly saw you, when you deemed me fit for fighting, the anger in your eyes when you placed the Twins in their rightful standing, the walks we took through Ellesmera, the gardens of Tialdari Hall, the sight of you alive after I learned you had been captured by another Shade, the sight of you after all those times we were separated, the way the moon shone on your face, the way the sun illuminates you wherever you go."

Eragon looked down, "I could not think any other place without those sights are beautiful. That world could never be extraordinary when the world I live in has such magnificent sights."

They walked in silence once more, Arya happy at the notion even a perfect world could not tempt her mate enough to stay there.

"Tell me of a happy memory Iet Drottningu."

"There was a time, a few years after I was born. Perhaps at the age of six or seven. My father and I were practicing training. I had a little sword, it was perhaps the length of my forearm now. He taught me techniques of fighting, swordplay. I was quite talented. One boy of the noble families was quite jealous of the praise I had received and challenged me to a duel. I beat him fairly easily. His name was Faolin."

She smiled at the memory, a tear leaking down her cheek.

"I am sorry Arya, do you miss him?"

A small chuckle emitted from her lips, "Do not be afraid to ask your true question. You want to know if I still love him."

He nodded slowly, swallowing the large bump that situated in his throat.

"No, I do not love him. I miss him, miss the elf he was, the friend he was. I mourned a companion, but even before he was…captured, I suppose is the better term for it…we had our problems. Our time together was plagued with arguments, we could not see eye to eye. We were stubborn, determined to still be in misery, too stubborn to call ours a failed relationship, even when it was certain we were not meant for each other. We tried to find a common ground, but even that had crashed. He pursued me for duty, and I accepted out of compromise, it was not love. At one point, at the height of our relationship, I could say that I had feelings beyond friendship for him, but it was a trick on my emotions. I felt something out of obligation to feel something. He was loyal friend, a companion, one I confided in, but I never shared my life or heart with him as I do with you."

She paused collecting her thoughts again, "I was conflicted in the beginning of our relationship simply because I thought I was insulting his memory by falling in love. But I quickly realized I was never in love with him, I never said to anyone, including him that I loved him. It was simply not the truth. Faolin would have wanted my happiness, and I would have wanted his. However our happiness was not together. For the hundred years I have made his acquaintance, my best memories are of our training together, and my worst of our time as mates together."

Arya turned towards her mate, "I have never loved another as I have loved you. Ever. And I do not think I shall either. If something does happen to you, and I am unable to follow you, I will not take another mate. You are not some memory to forget…you are my life. And that does not erase so easily."

She placed a kiss on his jaw and continued walking, "I suppose that was not such a happy memory to talk about." There was laughter in her voice, but Eragon did not feel an urge to chuckle with her. He stopped walked, his eyes dangerously darker, far more intense than he had ever been before. Holding her hands in his, he walked closer to her, one hand tilted her head back, and he quickly closed the distance between their lips. He was kissing her with as much fervor as he could muster, his lips moving restlessly against hers, his hands tracing her curves, pulling her closer against his body.

"I love you Arya Drottningu. I wish I knew how to show you how much I love you." Slowly pulling away, he laced his fingers with hers and continued their pleasant walk around the lake. Saphira joined them half way through, opting to glide next to them or tread as softly as possible next to them.

_My dear Sapphire, I have wonderful news for you. _

_Galbatorix jumped off a cliff._

_No…not that wonderful I am afraid. _

_Do not get my hopes up little one. Give me the news and I shall decide how wonderful it is. _

Eragon chuckled, he learned early never to cross a dragon. They had the uncanny ability to find faults in faultless words and to be logically blinded to their own faults.

_Nasuada is throwing a party in two weeks time. _

_And how is this good news for me? _

_There will be mead. _

_Ah! Now you are talking little one. This is indeed wonderful news. _

The blue dragoness let a short flame into the sky – a small sign of her contentment.

_Saphira? I thought you were not fond of drinking. _

_Nay, little princess. I am not fond of Eragon drinking, because then I cannot drink as much. It is much better if only one of us is inebriated at one time. That way the drunkenness can be split across both links. _

_I never would have thought that. You truly are the wise one. _

Saphira hummed at Arya's praise. The Rider, on the other hand, could only look down and shake his head. It seemed, no matter one way or the other, that Saphira would be drunk in two weeks time.

The next week passed with little occurrence. Most of the well off men and women tailored their dresses. Eragon and Arya had it much easier. Islanzadi gave them the wardrobes saying she had sent for them just in case. They were enjoying a nice flight over the encampment when Blodhgarm reached for them.

_Shadeslayer, I have urgent news. _

_What is it Blodhgarm? _

_Your cousin has just gone into labor a few minutes ago. Roran asked me to find you. _

_Thank you, tell him we will be there shortly. _

With a quick word to Saphira, the great dragoness turned in the air in one sharp maneuver and headed to other side of the camp. Roran was placed in the military barracks with Nasuada and the other captains. The Varden leader wanted all the leaders to be spaced out in the city, any problem could be easily handled if they covered more area. A giant flap of her wings and a loop caused a graceful landing. Arya leapt off first, heading towards Roran. He was pacing back and forth, screams from inside echoing through the hallway.

He nodded to her, a quick, "Arya." before his eyes went back into the panic mode they were in. Eragon followed close behind her, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"She will be alright Roran."

His cousin looked at him in half anger, half fear.

"She is screaming and she is in pain. She is not damn alright!"

And Roran continued his pacing. Arya shot her mate a glare, clearly telling him that was not the right way to deal with this situation. The princess walked over to him, catching the bear of a man midstride. Laying a cool hand on his cheek, she spoke soothingly.

"Do not fear Stronghammer, I will ensure no harm befalls her as best as I can."

With that statement, she entered the room and immediately took charge.

"Roran, are you serious? I come here, your cousin, your brother. I tell you she will be fine, and you snap at me. My mate comes here, tells you she will be fine, and you actually stop pacing, sit down, and for once calm."

It was right, Arya's words had calmed Roran more than Eragon's.

"No offense, she is a woman."

The Rider shrugged. They all were family, he did not particularly care whether or not Roran was comforted by him or not, as long as someone stopped his damned pacing. More wails came from inside, but none that sent Roran off his rocker.

Arya entered a room in disarray. They were humans working on Katrina's childbirth, but only a few were truly skilled in the business of birthing. As an elf, she had training in many things. Birthing was not one of them, but she was more in tuned with what the baby and the mother felt. Katrina shot her a grateful look before screaming under another bout of pain. Arya admired her, the entire time here, Katrina had not once insulted someone.

"Roran! You bloody idiot! I refuse to let you touch me again! Oh God!"

Spoken a tad too early. A ghost of a smile hinted at her lips and she walked over to the soon to be mother. She felt Eragon's amusement through their link, most likely because Roran had heard Katrina's cursing. She sat in a chair, pulling it closer to the bed and took Katrina's hand in her own. Arya wiped the sweat from her forehead, laying a cooling towel on her face while deftly ordering the others to get hot water and more blankets. Blood was everywhere, blood soaked blankets were everywhere, and Arya suddenly got a picture of Eragon pacing outside the room when she was in labor.

That was not possible, her mate would find a way to be there in the room with her. Another wave of pain erupted on her cousin's face, another wail on her part. For a human, Katrina was surprisingly strong. She had Arya's hand in a death grip, and had the Elvin princess not been Elvin, she would have cursed her broken bones.

"She is crowning Lady Arya." One of the midwives called to her.

The princess commanded two other women to stand ready and hold the baby as it came out. The others adapted easily, taking over the jobs of readying hot water and preparing fresh blankets immediately.

"You are almost there Katrina."

It had been nearly an hour of pushing, and Arya could feel the tiredness radiating from Katrina's aura. Perhaps if she had not taken a surprisingly long stroll in the hot weather, Katrina would have had more strength in her. However, she had, and then she went into labor.

One final wail from the mother to be was finally accompanied with a different wail altogether. A healthy baby, writhing in a fresh cotton blanket was being held by a midwife. A gentle squeeze of Katrina's hand, and Arya lifted herself off the chair and took the baby in her hands. A quick spell, and any remnants of blood were erased from the newborn. She sent someone to call in Roran and Eragon and then handed the new baby girl to her mother.

A broad smile erupted on Katrina's face as she held her daughter. The baby stopped crying, and instead mimicked a smile.

"Where is she?" Roran's burst in the room raised alarm from many of overworked women, but he had no eyes for them. He strode across the room to where Katrina lay, still spent from the ordeal.

"Your daughter Stronghammer." Katrina held up the baby to him, but Roran did not hold her. Fear was evident in his eyes, but it was soon replaced by a stronger, more potent emotion…love. He slid in the bed next to his wife, kissing her forehead.

"Our daughter, Katrina, our daughter. Thank you."

Eragon watched as his cousin placed a protective arm around the baby and his wife. He meandered over to where Arya stood, a gleam in his eyes as they both watched the happy couple…family.

"You need a name for her."

"That's right, we do."

Katrina made no attempt to speak after that. Both parents had a trying ordeal, the stress no doubt taking years of their ages. Curving an arm around Arya, they left the family in blissful silence. Becoming a family had turned the day into night and both Shadeslayers had tired of the events. A few elves stayed behind to express their congratulations to his cousin, but most had gone to sleep. Saphira agreed to meet the baby in the morning, when a name had finally been chosen.

The next morning was a different sort of event. Roran had taken a leave from duty for a few weeks, just to help Katrina with the baby. Her name was Ismira Marian Stronghammer, named after the two late mothers of both parents. Ismira was a beautiful name, quite uncommon among humans.

Saphira had officially blessed the baby and so had Eragon, but that was not all he came for. Roran asked him and Arya to stay behind after the council was over.

"Eragon, I need a safe place in the Spine. You know the area better than anyone."

"You are sending Katrina and Ismira away. That is why you are taking two weeks off."

It was a statement, not a question.

"You do not understand. Katrina cannot fight like you Arya. If the Empire soldiers get to her, she will be overpowered. And my daughter, I have her to think about. I do not know what I will do if anything should befall them. I need a place far away from here, away from this war."

Eragon motioned to speak, but he was cut off by his mate.

"Stronghammer, anywhere here is dangerous. We are still not out of the King's jurisdiction. The Spine is a logical choice, but if we are to lose, Galbatorix will venture there to ensure no members of the Varden exist. The only other viable option is Ellesmera, no one but the elves dare travel there. Not even the king."

He threw his hands up in the air, "I am not some big name where the elves will let my wife and child reside there. I cannot convince them."

Eragon held up a hand to silence his cousin. "Roran, Arya can."

"Why is that?"

There was no beating around the bush, Roran should know. He was family after all.

"The reason I can, Stronghammer, is because the Queen of the elves is my mother. I am Arya Drottningu, Princess Arya of the Elves."

Roran looked around skeptically before turning on his cousin.

"Oh god, I hugged you…is that some kind of offense? Am I going to be executed for the way I behaved with you? Oh lord, what have I done? You! You!" And Roran turned to his cousin. "Why did you not tell me? You complete…"

Eragon stood with an amused expression on his face, "If it helps, dear cousin of mine, know the only reason I knew that is because the Queen called her daughter in front of me. Arya did not even tell me as she told you."

"And you have nothing to fear of being punished, you are family after all."

A faint smile graced his cousin's lips. "How can I ever thank you?"

"Stay safe Stronghammer and reunite with your family after this war. That is all thanks I need."

Roran nodded to the princess, bowing to her.

"I will talk with some elves. A few, perhaps twenty are heading back to the forest for more weapons. Katrina and Ismira will be granted safe passage with them. The mist from the river will hide them well among the trees, and soon they will reach the forest outskirts north of here. Once the war is over, I will give instructions for their welfare, no matter how the battle ends."

A nod from Roran and the mated pair were off to less stressful things. Arya sensed a foreboding feeling in her mind. The source was most definitely her mate. He was highly distressed.

"Eragon? What is it?"

He paced around the room, refusing to meet her gaze.

"How stupid could I have been?"

She frowned, not understanding what he was talking about.

"Oh Barzul! Arya, what if you are already pregnant? How many times have we…" He trailed off, trying hard not to think about it.

"It is a miracle you are not pregnant now. What was I thinking? You would know, right, know fairly early if you were?"

"Eragon…"

But he continued around the room, rambling some nonsensical information.

"Maybe you should go into hiding, just to ensure that you are not."

She got up, trying to dissuade him from walking around the room like a caged tiger. Her attempts went unnoticed and she lost her patience.

"Eragon! Stop pacing this instant!"

And he did, a surprisingly fearful look on his face. But it had nothing to do with her anger, and everything to do with whether or not she was pregnant and in more danger than ever. She laid a hand on his warm cheek, forcing his gaze to lock into hers.

"Listen to me. I knew the risks of consummating our union. I took the necessary precautions. Elvin children are rare because of the various contraceptive methods we have. I spelled my body so I would not become pregnant. It is a long spell, but I have done it since the first day we made love under the waterfall in the full moon. Do not fear, I am not with child."

"I should have been more careful Arya. Just because you took the necessary precautions does not mean that I should have neglected to ask about it."

A mischievous glint entered in her eyes, "Are you truly strong enough to resist me, Iet Shurtugal? Strong as you are, I know exactly how uncontainable your desire for me is. Are you telling me that when I force the matter on you, you can deny me?"

He swallowed, the room suddenly becoming extremely hot and extremely uncomfortable. And then she laughed…damn her, she was laughing at his predicament.

"No, Iet Drottningu, I cannot even lie and say I could deny you."

Wrapping his arms around her lithe body, Eragon drew her in closer. He needed to know that everything was fine, and there was little to fear from Fate's horrid games. He shuddered to think if Arya had been pregnant, his dilemma would have been worse than Roran's. The thought was as quickly swept away as it had entered, no doubt due to his very talented mate.

The next few days fortunately passed with little occurrence, it was only the night of celebration did the Varden begin its commotion. The bustling could be heard from the highest bell tower as the food and candles were being prepared. Unfortunately, since candles burned so quickly, Nasuada resorted to larger oil lamps that lit a significant more amount of land. The Great Hall, great as it was, had no means of light outside the natural sunshine.

Katrina had already left with Nari and a few other elves. Nari was not a warrior as much as he was the weapons and strategy elf. He knew the weather like the back of his hand and centuries of navigating through the rivers ensured he knew his way around quite well. Ismira was healthy as could ever be, and Katrina, although reluctant to leave her husband, did so with a smile on her face and love in her eyes. It was a sad departure, and even some of the elves were solemn at the dilemma. If they appreciated anything, it was the evidence of true love. They reached their destination nearly a week later. Katrina was placed in Osilon, where elves were under direct orders to care for her every need as she was Eragon's cousin. The princess also ensured that Sloan was nowhere near her residing place. No contact with her father would be permitted; neither could know the other was there.

The Rider glanced once more at his appearance. He looked satisfactory, not overly perfect, not too shabby either. He could have picked a better suited tunic, then again, he did not actually pick it. It was a black and gold tunic, consisting of a V neck that went near the middle of his sternum. The arms and the chest were far tighter fitting than he usually wore. He looked slimmer, his muscles looked well defined. Eragon was never bulky, he was a medium build. Strong muscles roped his body, but they were nothing like Roran's. Roran was a bear of a man, Eragon was a leaner, wolf of a man. If there was such a thing.

He left his hair a little wet, knowing that Arya preferred it like that. Plus, it did keep the longer locks out of his face. The design was made from a gold thread, quite intricate, and there was a lot of it. A dragon was sewn in the back, a fighting one with a large flame erupting from its mouth. Its claws were retracted, fighting something as it reared on its hind legs. The front was a continuation of the design with the gedwey ignesia sewn in the front. Eragon supposed it was some other Rider's clothes, he would never wear something so…blatant about his status. With a sigh he put his father's ring on…his ring on and waited for his mate to finish changing. She was in a different room of their little abode. It was larger than a single room, it had many, but not so large that many could stay with them.

"I am coming!"

Her melodious voice graced the room. It seemed he would always be enchanted by her voice, no matter how many times he heard it. The door creaked open, instigating his focus on it, and then he was struck blind to everything else but her.

Arya seemed to glow in the room. Her dress was of the latest fashion, long, silky, black and gold, flowing endlessly. He swallowed hard, shaking his head to see if he truly was dreaming. She was beautiful…the epitome of true beauty. The ends of her hair were at a slight curl, and half was pinned up while the other flowed down her back elegantly. One stray strand fell near her cheek, shorter than the rest, drawing attention to her high cheekbones and long neck.

His gaze traveled down, a low cut bodice…he forced himself to look further down. The material tightened at her waist, framing her slim body even more. The gold lace came together at the center underneath her chest before fanning out behind her in a sort of short overlay.

He glided over to her, capturing her lips.

"Iet Drottningu, not the sun, nor the moon, nor the thousands of stars could match your beauty."

She smiled, closing her eyes and nudging his jaw with her nose, "Iet liduen Shurtugal. Will you never run out of phrases to praise me with?"

"Never."

He laced her fingers with hers, a far more intimate gesture than the usual arm, and walked towards the Great Hall. Luckily, it was literally in the block over.

_Ah! You have come little ones! The mead is especially good! _

Saphira's drunkenness immediately caused Eragon to sway. It was not the amount was too much, but rather the effect too sudden. The princess caught his shoulder, steadying him until he came to grips with a rather drunk other half.

There were cries of Shadeslayer and Argetlam, but most had come and left them to their solitude. Islanzadi was occupying a table near Nasuada and surprisingly Roran was seated there as well. Katrina's absence took a little spunk out of him, but he still chose to make an appearance. They walked towards the table and took a seat.

"Eragon, Arya. I see the clothes have fit."

"Yes, they did, thank you, Your Majesty."

The Elvin Queen waved away his thanks muttering about how royalty never seemed to lose their title. Arya said nothing to this, instead choosing to watch her new cousin stare at an uninteresting spot on the ground. He was saddened greatly by the Katrina's and Ismira's abrupt departure. Ismira had nearly not spent enough time with her father.

"Stronghammer, have you spoken to Katrina recently?"

He looked up, his eyes blank. "Yes, I did actually, earlier in the week. She had just arrived, both are doing well."

"And Ismira? How is the little one?"

"My daughter Ismira…she is fine, giving her mother much trouble by crying in the night, but she is doing quite fine. All the normal developments, or so the healer told me. I actually have absolutely no idea what normal was. Until a few weeks ago, I did not know that boys matured slower than girls did."

He let out a small chuckle before falling silent once again.

Islanzadi was listening on the conversation quite intently, and then as if deeming it necessary to get to know her daughter's mate's family, she became involved in the conversation.

"Did you want a son or was it always a daughter?"

The question took him by surprise, but Roran answered anyway.

"I wanted a daughter, I wanted a child who looked exactly like her mother. I would have loved a son, but I wished for a daughter. Do not tell Katrina though, she wanted a son that looked like me. I did not want anymore trouble for the Varden however."

The table erupted in laughs. For a man who just sent the love of his life away, he was still surprisingly in a mood good enough to make jokes. The banter went on and off, the topics switching from this to that and that to this. At one point they were discussing something utterly unnecessary, something about using diamond for sharpening a sword. It was then Eragon took a look at his surroundings. The walls were lined with large tapestries, artfully done with the shadows and all. Other jewels were lined in the walls, while Tabor's weapon collection was hoisted up as well. There were statues along the top, Eragon could only assume they were the former heads of the government in Dras Leona.

His gaze trailed to the dancing couples. Saphira was elsewhere, by the dwarves. She was beating everyone in drinking games, even Chief Freowin had to be escorted out and looked after when Saphira put him to shame as the better drinker.

"Will you only look at the dancers and not dance yourself?"

His cheeky remark would most likely get him a slap, "I need to find someone to dance with." He raised his eyebrows in mock disappointment. The princess rolled her eyes and pulled him along next to her. It was a slow song, one they did not need dance skill as much as awareness of where their feet were.

"I did not know you were a talented dancer."

"I was not, my father taught me how. He was not the best dance partner, but I learned quickly…for a reason. It was rather awkward dancing with him."

She laughed at his statement before moving closer. One hand rested high on his shoulder, the other laced with his. She leaned against his body, turning her cheek so her breath was hot on his neck. His arm curved around her back, keeping her close. Closing their eyes, they simple basked in the feeling of dancing together.

The song ended, but they did not break apart. To both their dismay, a hipper, more lively tune was taken up and the entire dance floor broke into the waltz. They changed their positions, following etiquette, and weaved their way through across the floor. Couples turned to look at them, as they looked as if gliding in tune with one another. Elves remarked on the Rider's skill, and the humans simply stared. The other dancers continued their dancing, but none of that registered in either of their minds. They remained locked in each other's gazes as they twirled and spun around each other.

_Little ones, you truly look you are enjoying this. _ Or at least that was what Eragon made of her gibberish statement. The sudden lapse in concentration turned their attention to their surroundings. Arya gazed around the dance floor, perhaps the war had brought together more couples in love. One particular dance group came closer and closer, almost clumsily edging closer. She frowned, the princess could have sworn she had seen the man dance well before. The loss of skill was rather discerning.

A flash of metal caught her eye, it was well hidden underneath the long hair of his dance partner. Alarm in her eyes, she looked to wielder of the knife. A maniacal look crossed his face and he leapt at Eragon, the blade poised for his neck.

"Eragon move!" Arya pushed her mate out of the way, but she could not escape in time. The blade struck her arm and immediately she felt dizzy. It was poisoned, Barzul, and it was fast acting.

"Arya! Arya!" His frantic cries echoed in her ears, but she could not find the strength to respond. A cry of 'Get him!' resounded and the princess could only assume that the assassin was caught. The pain in her arm subsided as her mate healed the wound, but the damage was done. The fast acting poison was already in her blood, and it was working fast.

_I love you…_

The last statement she whispered in his mind before closing herself completely to the outside world. Shutting her mind down, she entered the catatonic state of Elvin sleep, the poison needed to be slowed, and this was the best way possible. Her eyes locked on his cerulean blue ones etched with love and fear, before losing consciousness completely.

Eragon frantically picked up her lithe body, ignoring the questioning of the princess's mother. The only healer he knew versed in this stuff was Angela. A command to Arya's horse caused him to gallop to the Rider's side. Saphira was too drunk, and her saddle was somewhere else. He heaved Arya on the horse, got on next to her, and rode until the other end of the city where Angela was. The herbalist opened the door before he knocked, Solembum had told her what had happened. She examined the wound and the knife.

"This is a rare poison Eragon."

"Is there a cure? There has to be."

Angela shook her head, "There is no cure, but there is a method. There are three kinds of poisons in existence. Poisons that are created by mixing various herbs and plants, poisons that come from venom of animals, and poisons that are magically connected. This is the last kind of poison, it is this poison that separates a world of magic from worlds without magic. The poison here is spreading through energy, it is fueled from a source far away. The distance does play a difference, but because the energy amount is so huge, it is minimal. Until the magic fueling the progress of this poison is ceased, Arya will continue to die. When the magic is ceased, she will recover as the poison dies from the lack of energy and eventually leave her system."

Eragon ran his hands through his hair, "How long do I have?"

"In this state, a few more months at the most. There is a lot of magic."

"The source?"

"I do not know."

Saphira landed outside shortly after, poking her head through a window. Glancing at the princess's sleeping form, she let a roar in the night.

_What is large enough to make this distance seem minimal? _

_I do not know little one. The assassin is caught, they are waiting for you. _

The Rider kissed his mate's forehead, lingering far more than necessary.

"Can she hear me Angela?"

"I think so, she will not respond however. It is an induced coma."

He leaned closer, whispering so only her Elvin ears could hear him, "Arya Drottningu, I love you. I will find out who did this to you and I will ensure your safety. Thank you for taking the blade for me…for saving me once again. Stay strong so that I may have hope of leaving my heart intact."

He kissed her cheek before a quick nod to the herbalist. Racing down the stairs, he jumped on Pelean and headed straight to the dungeons.

The man had a beard, his face hidden in the facial hair. He was bloodied, bruised, no doubt the elves had their attempt at the man.

His voice was laced with anger, an authority that no one dared question his judgment.

"What is going on here?"

"An interrogation Shadeslayer."

"What have you found out?"

"Nothing."

His eyes were raised in anger as he stared the man down. "I do not have time for this." Grabbing his the top of his head, Eragon held the assassin ruthlessly as he plunged into his mind. The barriers were strong, but not nearly as strong as his attack. The man was writhing in pain, but he paid no attention. He needed the information. The memories took him through training, then practicing the maneuver, and lastly the meeting with the king. The dagger was given alongside the liquid and an incantation. It was burned shortly after, but the words remained in his head. He watched as he dipped the dagger in the liquid and inched closer and closer to the target, the Rider himself. His need satisfied, Eragon dropped the man on the floor.

"Do with him what you will. I have a different matter to attend to."

Walking out of the room, he found Islanzadi and Nasuada in the council tent.

"Arya had been poisoned. The source of poison is well hidden in Uru'baen, but it is the only hope we have to saving her. I need to go back and find it, and destroy it. I am leaving tonight."

"Eragon! Wait, we can send someone else."

He shook his head, "No Nasuada we cannot. No one else knows about the source."

"And you do?"

The Rider nodded, "It is the eldunari. And it is deep within the castle somewhere." He looked at the Elvin queen, she knew better than to contradict him, especially when it came to matters of Arya. "I will take Saphira with me, we shall be well hidden in the night sky. It is a day ride and a half a day walk. We will take care not to be seen."

Eragon rearranged his face, turning his hair a dark nearly midnight black. His eyes turned a dull dark brown. It was better if no one knew this particular disguise. Saphira's drunkenness was wearing off with the severity of the events. Within an hour, Dragon and Rider set off to the capital.


	16. Chapter 41 A Sick Folk Tale

Chapter 41: A Sick Folk Tale

_Have you decided what to do? _

_No. _

_Will you? _

_Yes. _

_Little one, I understand your distress, but you cannot stop thinking. _

_I know. Galbatorix will keep his eldunari well hidden, that is for sure. I cannot infiltrate the castle and find it, there will be wards and I will be discovered. _

_So what?_

_I will hid as an Empire soldier, feel my way around, find out where it is. And I will send it to Crags. _

_An extensive spell. _

_I know, but if I do not rid him of the horde of eldunari, he will simply direct the magic to the poison again. I need to rid the horde completely. The poison is not interlocked with a source of magic other than that, he cannot restart it with another source. _

_Think Eragon, it will not take the entire horde of eldunari to keep this spell across the distance, and neither would he place his entire energy source in one task knowing full well the possibility of an elf taking your place. _

_What do you think then? _

_I have a strong notion he split up the eldunari, gave only a fraction of them to a person easily controlled for this task. Remember the one who attacked you had little memories of Galbatoix, only some other darker figure that actually gave the directions._

_You are right, the king ordered the attack, but he was not the mastermind behind the technique. _

_An elf would not be behind this task, not after that other was discovered. _

_I doubt it Saphira, but we cannot discount the possibility. _

_Remember, the other elf had his true name discovered, this man was willingly doing so. _

_Very well, if this is the case then we are looking for some common soldier, with skills a tad better the average. _

_Skills much better than the average, you forget, Galbatorix would not entrust eldunari with one who cannot defend them. _

_Alright then, I shall look for that one. _

_How long will this take? _

_I think close to four…maybe five weeks. I must tread carefully. _

_Do not forget that little one. _

_I will not. I will contact you frequently, when it is safe. Stay here and stay out of sight, if Shruikan sees you…_

_I know, I will hunt from the ground, not the air. I am not so big the forest will not conceal me._

And Eragon was off. He disguised his blade to be a normal one, and cast a spell of invisibility. The gate opened for a poor family, and the Rider took that entrance to blend his shadow with the others and enter the city. He moved from shadow to shadow before inconspicuously ending the spell. Walking around, he tracked a lone Empire soldier. Stalking him, he followed down the alleys and finally next to the brothel house. The soldier knocked once, lust reeking from his thoughts. A wantonly dressed woman answered the door before taking his request. A sly smile and the soldier waited patiently outside.

The Rider pounced, killing his enemy without a second thought. He rid the armor with magic and fastened it around his body. The door opened once again and the Rider hastily shoved the body away.

"She is ready, mister."

"Actually, I am not that interested anymore."

Muttering the words to burn the body from the inside, Eragon left the alley. The person would only see ash. No eyes followed him as he left. He was a soldier of the Empire, but no one knew him. They would leave him alone indefinitely.

"Oy! You there! Get your sorry arse over here boy!"

He had spoken too soon. It was a pompous general. Walking over, he placed a slightly fearful look on his face.

"Yessir!"

"What? Only Yes Sir! Do you not know who I am? I shall have you flogged for this!"

Barzul. In fear of alerting the magicians nearby, Eragon scanned the minds of the common man around him, he matched the name with each person before him.

"Forgive me Captain Maden, General Gerart."

"Thass better, now git!"

He faked stumbled on the ground, initiating some laughter and some talk of an insignificant sorry bastard. It was better to be insignificant, he could play the hierarchy battle well, the pecking order was not new to him. As long as he was the omega, the alpha would never look at him and if the alpha never looked at him, the omega would never have anything he did looked at. It was how the Varden kept somewhat clean of spies, most were in small battalions where every man was equal, only subordinate with their orders.

His uniform made sure no one questioned his entry into the barracks. He looked around for a soldier that matched his jet black hair and dark brown eyes. There was a horde of men enlisting. The falling economy of city made becoming a soldier the most solid job. Finding one, he used his Elvin eyesight to see what room he had been assigned to. His discovery led to moving quickly up after the new recruit. The man glanced back a few times, but did nothing otherwise suspicious. Finally, he managed to open the door…just in time to be forced in by the Rider.

Eragon broke his neck in one swift movement and examined. The room had been prepared for a soldier, little garments other than the usual dirty garb. He changed his features slightly to match the one he had just killed. The more resemblance the better for the enlisting officer not to know, but if he was a complete copy, random people on the street might blow his cover. He blew the lamp out in his room, ensuring people thought him asleep. Taking the body to the bed, he placed the soldier in a sleeping position. No one would think that he was dead.

The Rider, on the other hand, needed to know more about the pecking order. He needed to know who knew what, and where what was. Galbatorix's right hand would not know. As it was, the King did not trust anybody after Tabor's betrayal. The higher up a man becomes, the stronger the salivation for the position of top dog. No doubt it was some lowly man on the streets, picked out specially for some skill that the king had seen in him, and brainwashed to believe the king was his savior and would therefore lay his life down for the dark tyrant as the Forsworn had fallen for the same words of inspiration.

_Saphira. I am in, and I am disguised as a soldier. My name is Nicolas, I picked someone out and took his name. _

_Good, where are you now? _

_Just leaving the room, I need to see who is what. Who has access to the castle. _

_Very well, update when you can. Lay low for the first week, obtain information, that is it! Do not venture in the castle, remember we have time…_

_I know Saphira, I know. I just cannot help it, I just cannot help but fe-_

_Then do not feel. You are here on a mission, emotions will hinder this. We are not on your terms. This is the lion's den and you are stalking it in its home. Distractions will kill you, make no doubt about that. _

_I know… I do not know when I can speak to you again. _

_Do not force the issue, I shall remain here and see the city from afar. Goodbye and stay safe._

_Goodbye. _

He reluctantly closed off the link, severing his only tie to a non hostile environment. The world around him had no notion of the imposter among their men. Various magicians were stationed here and there. Often Eragon felt a mind brush his, but none lingered with the memories he put out. He learned the technique from Saphira when she protected memories of his training from the Twins. The only thing a little brush would see were those of a farm lad working in the fields and coming to earn more money for his poor family.

He made his way to a tavern. The captain and general he met earlier in the day were there, but they paid no attention to him. He ordered a pint, and sat in the dark corner. Pretending to interest himself in his own thoughts, Eragon tuned his superior hearing to the conversations around him. Most were mundane, actually all were. It was amazing what men revealed under the intoxication. One particular man had several affairs while his friend has gone to the brothel consistently for the past week with money from his father's will. Other than that, no luck in this tavern. No one here fit the description of the man he was looking for. Drowning the pint with ease, he left the cup on the table with a few coins and made his way out of tavern.

A man's eyes followed him, but Eragon paid no attention. It was customary for a newcomer to be spotted and gazed at. He hesitated slightly, but forced himself not to turn. If he was somebody Eragon should know about, he would run into him again very soon. The face of man seemed strangely familiar, seemed as if the Rider should know who he was. But it could not be, he resembled a villager from Carvahall, one he knew to be dead. A trick of the eye perhaps, but nothing more.

The other taverns were closing. He made his way back to the barracks, avoiding the documentation of who left and who entered by way of the window. He pulled the dead body from the bed and pushed him into the closet. It was disgusting, sleeping where a dead man lay, but it could not be helped, such was the situation. It was only for the one night that he did not want record of him leaving the place. It was too suspicious, enlisting from a long journey and not even resting. It was these anomalies that led to the capture of other men.

The body in the closet was another problem. He would need to rid of it soon, before the stench raised questions. How? That was a different matter. Burning the other in a room would ensure a horrid smell, and that would also raise questions. Later in the night, Eragon would throw the real Nicolas from the window, and then magically relocate him near the sidewalk where he would rot to death.

And so, when the moon was at its highest, that was what Eragon did. He threw the body from the window, relying on using magic without words to slowly lower it down and perch it against the wall where someone or the other would dispose of it properly. The Rider quietly ripped the sheets off of the cot and used the replacements. Sleeping on the same cot as a dead man lay was one thing, using the same sheet, blanket, and pillow was another. He pulled the spare and stuffed the other in the closet. He fell asleep quickly after that, his dreams filled with memories of his mate and the nightmare of her truly sleeping eternally.

The force keeping her still lay somewhere hidden in the castle, accessed by one other person than the king. Someone like Murtagh, young and talented, but scorned in life, and vengeful for his chance to get back at the world.

A loud bang instigated his wake from a fitful sleep. It was for the best, better not to sleep at all than sleep with more worries than before. A captain stood before all the new recruits, breakfast was served. Some porridge with a glass of water. Food for a starving city. Today was swordsmanship.

The new recruits were rather unskilled, some picked up easily, others later, and even others most definitely never at all. These were not soldiers, they were farmers, and they did not have the mindset to learn, only to be hired arm.

"You there! Pay attention!"

He sighed before lifting his sword up, he made sure he lost a few, won a few, made himself mediocre. It was best if he at least looked like he was focusing on the spar. Eragon had never crossed blades with such an unskilled warrior, he always killed too quickly to do so. He purposely bungled up and lay sprawled on the floor as the man stood on top, a cocky grin on his face and his sword held horribly to his throat. There were a million ways to kill him, the simplest of which would be pull the sword at his throat to the ground and stick his own sword in the air and impale the soldier as he fell. The hardest of which would be an intricate leg movement which made sure the victor lay sprawled, his sword inaccessible, and another sword pressed so tightly to his neck he had trouble breathing. But Eragon remained still as the captain slapped the fake victor on the back.

"Next time, try putting your sword up."

The captain stepped over his body, uncaring for giving the proper respect for a common soldier. It was to be expected, but that did not stop the anger that simmered deep within the Rider. But he could not become discovered, Arya was dying, his humiliation did not matter. Brushing the dirt from his second hand armor, Eragon lifted himself up and walked to the outside of the ring.

"Name's Micah. From down south near Melian."

The Rider looked to the voice, a short blonde man. He was young, but not nearly too young to be fighting. He looked in his mid twenties.

"Nicolas." Eragon lifted his hand out and shook Micah's. It would be challenging if he stayed to himself. Suspicions would arise.

"So, uh, me and a couple guys were thinking of going out tonight. Ya know, drinking, tavern what not. It's pay day today, or at least that's what I heard. As it is, we don' really need food, they give it. What do ya say mate?"

An invitation to go to a tavern, its what he needed to do anyway.

"Yea, thanks, I'll ah…I'll meet you guys outside." The informal tongue was as good as foreign to him. Even as little time had passed, the assimilation to a formal and Elvin world was far more integrated than his local flavor.

Micah nodded his agreement and turned back to the spar. He had only sparred once, and he had beaten his opponent fairly easily. Micah was a soldier who picked up on swordplay easily…_too easily come to think of it_. His skill was not suspicious, but his footwork was. It was as if he tried to hard to make sure his feet seemed to move normally on the ground as opposed to the skilled warrior he truly was.

The rest of practice went easier, the captain lost interest in hounding Eragon much to his delight. Night ensued, and the Rider readied himself for the trip outside. He met Micah, throwing him a casual greeting, no notion of the suspicions he was having. The other soldiers were named Simon, Garth, Leo, and some other common name. Micah was the only one who socialized with him, the others kept quiet or talked amongst themselves.

"That is an interesting sword you have there." Micah pointed to Brisingr in disguise, "Much better quality than all the other swords I have seen."

The usual blue sword was well concealed, but even with the changing in dynamics, a Rider's sword would always be of superior quality than the rest of the riffraff of the Empire armory.

Without missing a beat Eragon replied, "Family heirloom."

"Where are you from? I did not find out earlier."

If he said anywhere up north, Micah would grow suspicious. All those territories were either loyal to the Varden or pulverized by the Empire. The territories to the south ran a higher chance of being recognized by Micah, and who knew of the contacts he had there. Kuasta was illogical, being surrounded by the mountains, they had little part in this war.

"Bullridge, next to the river. After it was attacked, I fled, grabbed things I could find and wandered around from town to town trying to find work. I lived in the woods for quite some time before deciding to come here for shelter and safety. I even made a little hut and planted a few grains I picked out. But a man can' live on bread and grains."

Eragon was familiar with Bullridge, or at least the area around the town. He and Murtagh had traveled quickly through there to get to the Hadarac Desert, but they had to find the secret pathways in order to be hidden from the Empire soldiers.

Micah seemed satisfied with his answer. He stopped questioning and instead listened in on the other conversation at hand. They walked in the tavern together, their pockets jingling with their display of plentiful coins. It was their due for the month, some measly five gold pieces. However, at a tavern, even one gold piece was good enough to reduce one to a drunken state of being.

"What can we get for you Nicolas? Simon is a wine person, Garth a tad bit stronger with the liquor and I like all myself."

The Rider let out a forced chuckle, "It's always been good ole ale for me." Truth was he missed faelnirv.

"Ale it is!"

Eragon glanced at his surroundings. Much to his dismay, they were seated right in the middle of the commotion, far too many meaningless conversations were around him. Instead of listening closely, the Rider focused his eyes for anomalies. He strongly suspected Micah to be more than what he seemed, but that did not necessarily mean he was the king's arse – he could only be the messenger, a dog to the arse.

One particular man caught his attention. He was sitting alone at a dark corner, his dark brown, nearly black eyes unmistakable. He was the same man who stared after him in the tavern from before. Honing his Elvin eyes, Eragon focused on the man…there was no doubt. The Rider did know him, he was Bardrick, a man from Carvahall that supposedly died. Roran gave him the names of all who died, Bardrick he knew well. And here he was alive and breathing. If the man did not confront him even with his slightly changed state, then it meant that he either did not recognize him or was under orders not to. And considering the man was still alive, his life was then spared and his loyalties were with the Empire. In other words, he was under orders not to.

Bardrick did not have a build of a warrior, his body showed no signs of being battle experienced or even wielding a sword. He blended in well, a face unrecognizable among the population if they did not know him from before. He was the perfect spy, versatile. He could step into the Varden and an entire town would vouch for him, or he could stay within the capital and spy on Empire soldiers for any signs of betrayal.

"So Nicolas, any ladies back home?"

Garth was getting drunker and drunker by the minute.

"No, there is not."

"Oh come on! A looker like you with no following, I would follow you 'round had I a fatter chest!"

The table erupted in laughter, but only Eragon had to work at being amused. He did not care for the sexist banter of drunk males, actually he did not care for their banter at all. Before he could say anything, Micah reached over the table and punched Garth straight in the nose. The man rolled over and fell unconscious much to the amusement of the close vicinity.

"Right, too much for him. Who's drawing the short straw and taking him back?"

The only moderately sober man stood up, Simon, the wine man.

"That would be me, he's on my floor after all." Simon lifted the unconscious body of his fellow comrade on his shoulders. He stumbled a little here and there, but then gained his bearings before methodically walking out of the tavern. Luckily, he did not have much of a walk.

"I'm calling it a night Micah, Leo, Stephan. I have traveled too much this past time."

Eragon easily excused himself, the men at the table were too busy drinking well into the night. He pulled the coin out and threw it in its place before stalking out. But that was not all Eragon needed to take care of. Purposely stumbling into a man, the Rider turned around and looked one last time at the man in the corner and Micah. Both were staring intently at him, their eyes devoid of any inebriation from the alcohol. They were watching him closely, a hawk after its prey, something was not right.

The Rider played the game of cat and mouse for the next week. Micah watched him closely and Bardrick stayed in the corner. Because Bardrick was always at the tavern beforehand, Eragon knew he had been tipped off of his position, and since the man who made the plans of where he, Garth, Simon, Leo, and Stephan would be drinking, it was no doubt Micah who was the source.

His character was suspicious as well. Saphira had told him a few days ago that Melian was attacked and destroyed nearly completely by the Varden during Orik's coronation. It was one of the missions Nasuada sent Roran on. Micah said he came from Melian two weeks ago when it was over a year since Melian had been destroyed. There was another anomaly. Micah said the word 'mate' when addressing his comrades. Normally it would not be cause for concern, however, no one south of the capital used the word. It was a northern man's language. Micah was not from Melian, in fact, Eragon strongly suspected Micah was from one of the towns on the Ninor River, meaning they had been utterly destroyed by Durza's Urgals, and prisoners had been taken to Uru'baen.

Eragon was stagnating, he had no lead, no way to get closer to the eldunari. He was only confirming information he had accurately guessed days ago. He truly was going in circles. The time for drastic measures was needed.

The Rider slipped out from his room in the dead of night. Micah would hopefully be sleeping and Eragon needed to search his room for anything of importance. There was no moon to even shine through the windows making the only light source the occasional torch in the stone hallway. He was thanking fate for his Elvin grace, he made no sound as his boots hit the hard stone floor or creaked over the wooden stairs. Micah was on the first floor, and he was on the third.

The light was off in the room, a good sign.

He twisted the lock, finding it already open. Alarm shot through him, he was not the only one visiting the man at night, and it seemed someone else had gotten there first. Drawing his sword in a quick silent motion, he muttered the spell for invisibility and carefully stepped through the door. The room was a mess, papers were thrown everywhere, chairs turned over. The bed was in a disarray and there was a trail of blood leading to the closet.

His heart in his throat, Eragon walked over to the closet and opened it. Micah's dead body fell on to the floor. He was stabbed repeatedly, some of the wounds occurring after he had died. This was no simple murder, this was a message to him. He looked up, there were words written in blood, and from the smell of it, Micah's blood.

They were dripping down in a ghastly appearance, shivers ran through him.

It read: _Because you suspected him_. No elaboration, nothing. Someone was onto him.

The Rider fled the room quickly, it was not safe to tarry there too long. In fact, it was not safe to be a soldier here at all. It was best if he laid low and went into hiding. Eragon went back to his room, gathered his belongings and made his way out. The soldiers were wonderfully asleep. He needed to contact Saphira, and he needed to do it soon. He was in danger in the public eye.

He once again donned his invisibility spell and went to the outskirts of the city. Literally, underground was the best place to be. He moved in the sewer tunnels, the underground water system that ran through the city. A few maintenance men came by, none that could be either easily avoided or swiftly dealt with. He leaned against the wall, his body stretched lengthwise along the cold stone pavement.

_Saphira, are you there? _

_Little one, I was worried for you. _

_I know, something has happened. _

_What is it? _

_Micah has been killed. Someone knew I was on to him, someone bigger than Micah. There was a message specifically for me. Had I not gone there this night, I would have the next morning when he did not show. It was meant for me. I fled the area, the soldiers will be looking for me, thinking I killed him, but I ran the risk of being discovered if I did not. Micah was a pawn, he was not the one I was looking for. He was in contact with the main man who is now directly targeting me. _

_What about Bardrick? _

_Not smart enough for the whole operation. And definitely not strong enough to take down a skilled fighter like Micah. _

_So what will you do now? _

_The only other option I have is Bardrick. If he is not the lead I need, then I must start from scratch, and this time I will be in danger. _

_What was the purpose of Micah in the first place? _

_I do not know, maybe he was the bait. Micah made too many mistakes if he was the true mastermind behind the plan. He was sloppy, talked in the wrong manner, the dates did not match up and they were so drastic in how wrong they were. He was there to see if I picked up on it as a trained spy of the Varden rightfully should, and when it was evident I did, they killed him to send a message that they knew who I was. _

_And the barracks? _

_They are swarming with Empires soldiers now, I left a bit before they ransacked the place. _

_So you are on the run. _

_Unfortunately. _

_How are you going to deal with this? _

_Change my name and face again. _

_How did they find you out in the first place? _

_That is the problem, if they knew I was in fact the Rider, Galbatorix would have been here personally to deal with me. He would not let this chance go to waste. I am in his city and he will jump at the chance if he knew. I do not think they suspect that I am a Rider, if they did, I would already be in the dungeon, especially when it has been well over a week since I have arrived here._

_So the king does not know you are here? _

_I am sure the king knows someone is here, just not the Rider of the Varden. _

_Eragon, Solembum contacted me. _

_What did he say? _

_He told me that the poison in Arya is spreading quicker than normal. The strength behind the poison has increased tenfold. You can transport the eldunari away, but you need to cease the command as well. Eragon, you need to find who spelled it in the first place. It is only when the commander is dead will the magic permanently cease to fuel the poison. _

_They know I am here for it. And they want the job to be quickly over before I find it._

_Exactly. _

_This is good, Saphira, this is good. If Galbatorix knows that someone is here, he will attempt to protect it more and when he does this, he will involve more people. It is imperative he act as if something is wrong, and the more people involved, the more people I can track. I think it is high time I paid Bardrick a visit. _

_If he is innocent?_

_He is not, if he is innocent of this crime, he is guilty in another. And he is a threat. Bardrick was supposedly killed. We know he was captured now, but his life was spared, and the Empire does not spare lives for no reason. _

_Very well, thread softly and lightly. And little one, be careful, I grow anxious to see you again. _

_I know, I do too. What did Solembum say of how much longer Arya has? _

_A few months has come down to a few more weeks, perhaps three more. _

_Alright, I need to move now. _

He cut off the connection and rose from the sewer tunnel. The commotion had died down. Whoever killed Micah alerted the soldiers shortly after fleeing the scene, he either knew Eragon would make a visit that night, or he put the doubt on the Rider straightaway. And from the lights in his former room, Eragon had no doubt the true murderer led the soldiers in his direction. He found a puddle of water and rearranged his face once again. He changed his eye color, a lighter brown, one still common and blonde hair. He gave himself a stockier look, lower cheekbones, wider jaw, and a slightly receding jawline.

He now knew how awkward it was to have the bones rearranged in his face. Arya was not wrong in her hastiness to undo her work. He ripped the Empire armor from his body and left it in a dark corner. Donning a cloak, he put the hood up so it covered his defensive movements and strides. To the common eye, he would look as if he was a common shady character. Bardrick lived one of the rooms above an inn. It was not a permanent dwelling, but it served his purpose well. He discovered the place when he lagged behind in shadows. He followed him to the place and then went back to the barracks. It was a night ago, perhaps he had been followed then. It was possible, Eragon did not pay attention much to his surroundings when his target was being quite difficult to follow.

The Rider climbed from brick to brick, his hands digging in the hard stone as he climbed up it. Silently slipping through the window, he crept up on the sleeping man and woke him with his hand carefully placed over his victim's mouth.

"A word and I will kill you, make no mistake."

A squeak on Bardrick's part ensured his compliance.

"You have been following me, I know that. Who killed Micah?"

The villager shook his head, "I do not know."

A nasty growl erupted from Eragon's throat and he carefully pressed against a pressure point in his arm. Muffling his screams, he let go once the man was writhing uncontrollably.

"I know you are deeper in than that. Micah went to every tavern you did. Who killed him?"

And still no answer. Eragon was tiring of asking repeatedly with the same result. He forced Bardrick's head into the pillow and started pushing against the pressure points on his back, they were the worst. He felt the pillow become wet with his tears and finally after some muffles, the Rider let him go.

"Micah was no one, a good soldier with a bad cover. He was the one who needed to scope you out, to see what you would do. We knew about you, the brothel you visited. There are spies everywhere, the woman saw you kill the man and take his face, and then Nicolas, we knew you had killed him too, the body fell out of the window, you neglected to look up, he knew what you had done."

"He? Who is he?"

"I do not know his name, just that he often visits the castle. They call him the Claw, apparently he fought a bear with his bare hands and won. News reached the king and suddenly he was the man everyone respected. The king even had a special weapon forged for him, these metal clamps that attached to his hand, literally making his hand into a claw. He used them non stop for many years, but the scars from the metal bar digging into his skin chafed and bled, so he stopped for a while and learned the sword."

Eragon shook his collar, "Did you ever see him?"

"No, never!" The Rider drew his sword and pointed it at his neck, "I swear I did not, I was only a messenger, I only watch to see what is going on in the taverns and then report to some captain. I have never seen him, it's only the rumors I know."

"And how do you know them while others do not?"

"Like I said, the taverns…the people there talk a lot."

"Who was talking about the Claw?"

"The others you were with that night, Garth and Simon, they were talking about him before. It was the first I had heard of him, but it wasn't the last."

"And it was only them?"

"Yes, it was always only them."

The Rider sighed, no doubt he had to find Simon and Garth again, and find them in a sober state of mind. But this man was another problem he needed to deal with.

"Bardrick, I know who you are."

His eyes widened in fear. "I swear, I work for the Empire now, not the Varden. Never them. I killed them like you asked me to. They're dead I swear they are."

"Who did you kill?"

"The woman and child of some Varden sympathizer, I killed them. I did what he asked."

Barely contained rage seeped through the Rider. This man was not the Bardrick he knew, this man was not even human, a monster, one capable of killing innocents. Even so, it was not in his place to kill him. However, Bardrick was a threat and he needed to be eliminated, if anyone knew he recognized Bardrick, it would only take a few minutes to realize they both were from Carvahall and make the connection that he was the Rider being the only spellcaster strong enough for such spells.

"That is the problem." One swift motion of his sword decapitated Bardrick's head from his body. The bleeding mess soaked the sheets, but that was the last thing on Eragon's mind. He cleaned his sword and climbed down the wall once again. It was back to the sewers until it was safe to approach Garth and Simon. Arya had only three weeks left, Eragon needed to find the eldunari and the person fueling them quickly. If he at least sent that batch away, the magic and the ways would both be lost forever.

For the week, Simon and Garth showed no signs of any suspicious behavior. They went to the tavern, got drunk, and left. It was customary. No signs of suspicion even when Bardrick showed up, meaning they thought the Claw killed him even though it had been him. No one followed them either, and neither did they follow anyone. It was on one of these nights did Eragon decide to make his move.

He snuck behind them, knocking Garth out with the back of his sword. Easily lifting the unconscious man's body he held Simon at sword point.

"A word from you and your friend dies."

Simon nodded before backing into the alley.

"We have money, a few coins, but not much."

"I have no interest in that. You have information, what do you know about the Claw?"

Simon shook his head with a little laugh, "Where the hell are you from? That you don't know the Claw."

Eragon pressed the tip further instigating protests, "Alright, alright. The Claw, it's a folktale around here. Teenage boy wants something better from life, goes into the woods, kills a bear and the God grants him claws. Ever since he's been God's right hand man."

This was unbelievable. "A folktale, I want the man the Claw, the real one, not some child story."

The man's face fell into seriousness.

"Listen, a week ago, a friend of mine turns up dead in his own room. Stab wounds everywhere, gashes, what not. Body's bloody mess. This guy from Bullridge flees, name's Nicolas. Everyone thinks he's killed him, but I know its not. Garth and I, we know its this new guy in town. Calls himself the Claw, just like the folktale, only he killed a wolf instead of a bear. Wants to make a name for himself, wants to be heard, or admired, or something like that. Garth told me. Those wounds, Nicolas wouldn't do, hell the guy can't even take down an amateur with the sword, no way he killed Micah."

"So why did the Claw kill him?"

"Who knows, maybe ran into him and didn't apologize. Who the hell knows?"

"How do I know you won't run straight to your boss and tell them about me if I let you go?"

"Listen mate, we have no business here, no trouble. Just a few guys trying to get back home after a long day of work. We don't see the Claw, no one does. Or at least, he's the last thing they see."

Eragon pulled the sword away from Simon and handed him Garth's unconscious body. Simon grabbed a hand of Garth's but he immediately slipped from his grip.

"Dammit."

The Rider heard the ripping of fabric, no doubt to tie up the wound wherever it was. He turned back into the sewer system, he was running out of time, only a week left. He paced back and forth on the stone layout of the water system.

The Claw, no one saw him, no one ever does. Wants to make a name for himself, wants to be known. He was getting known that was for sure. He fit the description. Small town boy, comes in the world with big aspirations and tries to make a name for himself. A skilled and strong warrior, but one easily manipulated at his age. The King, as Murtagh described him, was good with words and this opportunity was one he did not want to let go. The elves were closed to him, the Riders as well. The last hope Galbatorix had were these humans with a genetic disposition to be stronger than the rest, and so he capitalized. A commotion from above knocked Eragon from his thoughts.

"Oh my god! Oh my god! He's dead, old Harvey's dead. Someone's killed him! Help! Help!"

Old Harvey was one of the bartenders at a tavern, someone killed him and from the sounds of the description, it was the Claw. Same as Micah, numerous stab wounds, cuts, and gashes, blood everywhere, mess of a body. The Claw struck again, and this time the target was not related to him.

He listened in on the conversation, hearing snippets of, "-half past eleven-" or "no one saw anything."

Half past eleven, that could not be right. Usually Simon and Garth left at midnight, but they left at eleven at least this night. Did they know the Claw would strike again?

No, Simon was not lying, must have been a coincidence, perhaps they simply wanted to call it an early night or more possibly, they made some derogatory comment and were forced to leave the tavern.

He was running out of options, not to mention bread. He had no more time to waste. He pulled the map from his sack and laid on the ground. He took a map of the city from Jeod before leaving. The castle was fine, but the city layout, Eragon needed to know. According to Simon and the murder records, there were a total four murders that fit the description of the Claw. Micah was the third, and Bardrick was the fourth. Although Eragon had killed Bardrick, he later discovered that his body had also been mangled.

The first one was in the center of the city. A random man's body ends up on the middle of the street. The next, some retired teacher ends up dead in his house. Micah's death in the barracks, and Harvey's in the tavern.

The center…the house…the barracks…the tavern. The center, the house, the barracks, the tavern. That was it, Simon said 'leaving his mark'. The Claw was literally leaving his mark on the city. The center was the starting point, the base of the claw and from there were three lines connecting from the place of murder to the center point. It did not matter why they were killed, the Claw wanted to make his mark no matter who it was he killed. All he wanted was his name known.

He carefully traced to the fourth and final line. It was somewhere in the castle, somewhere in the tunnels. Eragon had no doubt he would find the Claw there in exactly a week. All his murders were spaced out a week apart, and his latest was this night.

Eragon slept fitfully, he was too anxious to finish this off. The next morning brought about a different commotion. Hushed whispers took over the town center. Climbing out of the water way entrance, the Rider looked to see what the deal was. A man was hanging, four claw marks raked down his face and ended at his waist. His heart was falling out of his chest, his eyeballs were nearly out of their sockets, and underneath a message.

_Because he talked. _

This was the work of the Claw. The man up there was Simon. The Claw knew he had talked. He must have been following them, and he was good.

Eragon stayed hidden for the week. He never picked the same place to stay. It was sometimes an inn, other times the water way, and even others some place high in the tower, he never kept the same face. Changed it between red hair, black hair, blonde, brown, and his facial structure too. The clothes fit, it was after all, the best part of being a spellcaster was that he did not have to wait for a tailor. He shut his eyes as they filled with tears. Being without her was the worst, he missed her body next his, missed the comfort her presence gave him. Arya's words rang in his ears, how he longed to see her again.

The night of someone's murder finally came about. He had to find the Claw, had to find the eldunari and had to kill the man.

_Saphira. Are you ready? _

_Yes, little one. I am closer to the city, the night is hiding my figure. _

_Good, I am going inside, I will keep in touch. Tell me what is going on from the outside if you can. _

_Very well little one. _

Eragon entered the castle from the water system. He was lucky in that the tunnel he needed to go to, there was a water pipeline running underneath. He reached the spot on the map and began breaking the ceiling of the pipeline. Dirt and rock fell from the top, but soon a hole big enough was made for Eragon to come up. He was in his Grey Folk armor, his face was back to normal, and even Brisingr felt satisfied at being blue once again. Once he was this close, it did not matter.

He heard footsteps in front of him. They were frantic, as if the person was running away. Hiding around the corner in the shadows, Eragon waited until the man was right in front of him. The Rider found his mouth, shut it, and raised his sword.

"Oh god! Oh god you are the Claw. I knew it! God help me!"

Eragon lowered his sword, "Garth?"

The man raised his head, a look of incredulousness across his face, "You know me?"

"We do not have time, why are you here?"

"I needed a safe place. After my friend was killed, I knew it was a matter of time before it was me. I came here to hide."

Eragon nodded, "Stay with me, do not make a noise. I need to see this Claw."

_Eragon are you sure you can trust him? _

_Did you see how scared he was? I doubt he is telling a lie. _

_The Claw is psychotic, they can be very emotional people. Look at the facts. _

Eragon stopped in his tracks and motioned for Garth to stand at the other side. Saphira was right, he needed to look at this situation more closely. Simon was dead, killed by the Claw, no doubt. Only he and Garth knew about him, only he and Garth knew about him and Simon was dead. The Rider glanced in horror at the man before him. He looked at his hand.

"_scars from the metal bar digging into his skin chafed and bled_" Garth had scars on his hand, and the night Harvey died, Garth's hand slipped from his grasp…because of the cuts that had reopened from donning his weapon again. It was Garth that was on the same floor as Simon, the top floor. Garth knew it was him that killed the real Nicolas and sported his look. It was Garth that put Bardrick there and Micah while acting like an idiot. Garth was the Claw.

The Rider looked at him waiting, and for a split second, it seemed as if time had slowed.

And then his lips curved into a smile.

"I see you know who I am."

A sound of metal filled the tunnel and Garth had launched himself in air. He was like a whirlwind, moving quickly, but not nearly quickly enough. Eragon dodged the fan like blades. A swift movement, and the master swordsman tied the two 'claws' together.

"The eldunari Garth? Where is it?"

Laughter filled the air.

"He knows! He knows you are here! Die Varden scum! Die!"

He was running out of time. He plunged into his mind, using far too much energy to break his eldunari enforced barriers. They were in a room not far from here, a chest somewhere. Eragon lopped off Garth's head when he clutched it in pain from Eragon's intrusion and sped as agilely as he could down the hallway. One task was completed, the other needed to be done.

_Saphira! _

_I know, get there quickly, then go to the top of the tower, I shall meet you there. _

_Is Shruikan out? _

_I cannot see him, he is not here yet. Eragon hurry! Dawn is approaching soon, and I will not be so concealed. _

_Barzul! Fine I am almost here. _

Checking the place for wards, Eragon entered the room. As skilled as he was, the king knew Garth had no magical power, the wards would have killed him every time he entered. The Rider found the magic flow and ceased with a few words. Gathering up his strength, he used the spell Oromis had taught him and sent the eldunari to Crags. It was the one place he knew they would be safe. The eldunari in this particular horde was not anywhere near the number Eragon knew Galbatorix to be in possession of, but the combined strength of this particular fraction was overwhelming. He was nearly sagging on the floor, but the door had already crashed open.

"Rider Eragon. I had hoped we would meet on better circumstances."

Galbatorix, his red hair, his evil eyes, his malevolent stature stood before him, and Eragon was weak. Pulling himself together, he raised his sword. All he needed to do was escape.

"Pity, I thought you would stay for breakfast."

And the king lunged at him. He was quick for a big man, quicker than Eragon expected. The young Rider could have been faster had his body not been so physically spent before. In any case, Eragon worked to keep his mind blocked off and his body safe. He maneuvered around the king, matching stroke for stroke, dodging when he could. He edged closer and closer to the door, and in one final dodge, Eragon threw himself outside the door and ran as fast as he could.

Faintly hearing the door crash and ungraceful footfalls behind him only increased his speed. A few spells shot around him, but he had thankfully placed his wards on before his entrance into the castle tunnel.

The imprint of the castle was still in his head, courtesy of his mother. He sped up the stairs, relying on the Belt of Beloth the Wise and the energy in its gems to keep him steady.

_Little one, he is here. _

_Shruikan? _

_Yes, hurry. I do not how long I can fly without his knowledge. _

_I am coming. _

He reached the top of the tower in two minutes.

_Saphira? Saphira! _

_I see you. Jump. _

Eragon trusted his dragon blindly. Jumping without so much as a second thought, he felt Saphira fly underneath her. Commotion ran on the streets, but they were least concerned about it. They headed as fast as they could, back to Dras Leona. But a large roar and a stronger flap of wings indicated they were being followed.

_Little one…_

_I know. Listen to me. The sun is rising quickly. Remember how I could not stand being that high up. _

_Yes. _

_Fly that high up, they will follow and hopefully the king will faint. _

_And you? _

_Saphira I am already losing consciousness. _

_Fine, I am going up. _

Saphira craned her neck and pulled Eragon out of his saddle. Her teeth clamped down on his armor, luckily it was strong enough to withstand a dragon's bite. If Eragon stayed in the saddle, he would risk falling off, it was the best way to make sure they stayed together. The blue dragoness climbed higher and higher. A roar from Shruikan beneath her alerted her that they were following quickly. She climbed higher and higher, far higher than she had with Eragon, and they were still following her.

One last stretch and the roaring went into the distance. Shruikan had given up pursuit, Galbatorix was falling off his saddle and the Black dragon flew after him. Saphira slowly began her descent, but her wings were tiring quickly.

_Little one! Little one! Answer me! _

But no avail, he was dying because of the lack of oxygen. A burst of energy came from Saphira and she dove done where oxygen was abundant. She was, however, too tired to stop, and in one last attempt she tried to slow down, one last magical surge too late.

Arya had awoken, alone regretfully. She felt the strength returning to her, but no one was by her side. Testing her legs, the princess went to see the commotion outside. The last she remembered was being poisoned, and Eragon's words echoing in her mind. She let out a gasp as Saphira came crashing through thin air out of some portal like figure in the sky, her body slid across the ground and someone was in her teeth.

_Eragon. _

She ran quickly outside, her body tiring from the lack of food in her system.

"Arya! You are alive, thank fate."

But she heeded not the words. A firm hand kept her from going there.

"Arya, Eragon and Saphira need medical attention, as do you. You cannot be there for them now."

Islanzadi's calm voice was not what she wanted to hear. She needed her mate's voice. She needed to know what happened.

Arya watched as the elves gathered around the bodies and tried their best to heal the extensive injuries. The crash had broken more than a few bones, and Eragon was already severely tethering onto the dead side.

"Don't worry Arya. He's Eragon, he will survive. He is good at that."

A hint of a smile graced her features before the princess felt a wave of nausea. Bracing herself against a pole, she slid down losing consciousness.


	17. Chapter 42 A Reunion of a Sorts

Chapter 42: A reunion of a sorts

"Well, well, well. It seems all three of you have found a way to be nearly dead at the same time."

Eragon cracked an eye open. His head was on fire, and that was nothing compared to his ribs. He looked around, half expecting to be in a cell, but this jail was whiter, with a human witch who could be rather annoying.

"Angela? What happened?" His eyes were rolling back into his head as he fell asleep again.

The witch rolled her eyes, muttering something indiscernible about doing too much in so little time.

Arya awoke shortly after, her strength was nearly restored. Eragon was in the bed next to her. She moved to his side quickly, well, as quickly as she could and took his hand in hers, she missed his warmth, she did not know how long she was under the influence of the poison. The tent flap opened and Islanzadi walked in.

"What happened mother?"

Islanzadi laid a hand on her shoulder.

"You took a knife meant for Eragon, it was poisoned and you shut yourself down nearly completely to slow the poison. Eragon and Saphira needed to destroy the poison in you, but they could not do so because the source needed to be found. They went to the Empire for some three – four weeks and eventually rid the source. Shortly after, they came through thin air, as if they transported themselves from the capital. We do not know what happened. You have just regained your strength. It has been nearly two days since Eragon returned, they are both resting. They used much energy to finish their mission."

The princess shuddered as the cold wind blew through the tent. She nevertheless ran her hands through his hair. Four weeks without him next to her felt like an eternity. Gently pulling the covers back, she slid in the bed next to him, and curved an arm around his waist. He moved slightly, but it felt as if he tightened his hold on her as well. Islanzadi seemed to notice, but she smiled and left them alone.

It was three more days until Eragon and Saphira awoke on their own accord. Their injuries included a broken ribcage, two broken legs, using magic until they were nearly dead, and on Eragon's part, two nearly collapsed lungs. The Rider awoke to the pleasant fragrance of pinecones filling his senses. He thought he was in heaven for a second, but then the raven hair of his mate came into view. And suddenly it was better than heaven, it was home.

He was alive, more importantly Saphira and Arya were alive. Instinctively, he ran his fingers through her silky strands. The movement spurred her awake.

"Good morning iet Drottningu."

Her eyes shot to his, "You are awake. Wait here, I need to call the healer. You need to eat first."

She moved off of him, going towards the exit, but she was stopped. His hand was grasping her with a surprising strength. Pulling her closer, he wrapped a hand around her neck and pulled her down. And after four weeks of hell, he kissed her.

"I love you Arya. I never want to experience that again. It was hell, absolute hell."

She smiled against his lips, kneeling for a more comfortable position. Nudging his nose, she playfully replied, "You and Saphira gave me quite a scare yourselves."

He chuckled at her and watched as she called the healer in. Angela strode in the tent, Solembum was walking near her feet. He seemed to give a slight nod to the injured Rider, but remained silent.

"Drink this." Angela held out a rather sickly looking drink. He swore he still saw a couple of plant roots in it.

Cringing he looked at her, "Does it taste bad?"

The witch replied with an indignant humpf, "The question should be how bad does it taste. And before you ask that, I shall answer. It is a terrible taste."

"Angela, I do not think-"

She snapped at her fingers at him, "You were not thinking when you left on a slightly drunk dragon head long into the Empire. You do not need to think to drink this! It is a vegetable juice, it has nutrients that you need to eat. You cannot stomach solid food for the next couple of days, a rib punctured your stomach in the crash landing. It is still highly sensitive. Only hot soups and juices for the next week or so, then we can try salads, then solid food."

"How long has it been?"

"Nearly half a week. Saphira is coming around as well. She drank an entire barrel of soup just last night. She is still resting though, her spine was severely injured on the impact, and her wings were torn on places. The elves fixed her up, but even they ran out of energy before all wounds could have been healed. She is getting better though. Somehow her dragon magic transported you back to the Varden."

Closing his eyes and forcing himself not to breath, Eragon gulped the vegetable juice quickly. It was a horrid tasting drink, something he did not look forward to in the next few days.

The princess sat on the edge of bed, drinking him in with a puzzling expression. Eragon was far too tired to go to her, so he opted to reach his hand out hoping she would come to him. It was a tiring month without her frame next to his. He did not sleep properly for the past four weeks. She slid into the covers, and soon he felt a soft hand on his chest. She was tracing one of his scars. It had formed when the elves choose not to completely heal the wound for the sake of saving energy. It was a ragged nasty mark where the rib bone punctured the skin.

"What happened in the capital?"

He looked away, not wanting to disclose what had happened. Instead, he sent her the memories as he merged his mind with hers, finally reestablishing the link. Eragon felt the restlessness leave his body as her comforting presence resided in its familiar place in his mind.

Arya was flicking through the memories, absorbing at a rapid pace the information necessary. She stopped when the king arrived on scene, watched in horror as they began to duel.

"I do not know how many eldunari he has. But the six or seven in Garth's position created the strongest mental defense I had ever seen. Breaking that took much of my energy and the transporting the eldunari to Crags took even more. I was relying on the gems and Saphira at this point."

His eyes began to close. Trying in vain to keep himself awake, Eragon finally succumbed to his need for sleep. Sliding down the bed, he rested on Arya's chest, the crook of her neck where his head fit perfectly against her long neck. Curving an arm around her waist, the Rider fell asleep once more.

He lapsed in and out of states of sleep. Most of the time he was out of it. The Elvin healers had placed him under a tight session schedule, often putting him to sleep for their purposes. He was only awoken for eating. Eragon briefly saw Saphira, she was well on her way to becoming completely healed. It took the Rider another full week before he was fully recovered. Arya stayed by his side mostly as her duties as an ambassador were rarely needed during the period of rest.

They shifted back to their room in one of the headquarters after they were deemed healed enough to live on their own. It was a rather long and arduous process, one neither wanted to repeat.

Saphira had left the city to go hunt, it was the first time since their escapade in the capital. Eragon and Arya, on the other hand, opted to stay in their room. Closing the windows, they lit the fireplace and lounged on the reclining chair. The cold air was setting in quickly. Neither ventured outside unless they had to.

"Mother sent an elf to Crags a few days ago. He was charged with the duty of find the eldunari and putting them safely away in Oromis's house."

"That is good news."

Arya was sprawled across his chest, her hair falling down over his arm curved around her back. It had been quite a boring day. Sparring was being shifted indoors because of the cold weather. It was halfway through November when the first signs of snow covered the ground. The children were happily playing outside, but the adults groaned at the need for larger and thicker cloaks. The wind howled outside the shutters, it was eerie, yet they were comfortable next to the fire. He played with her hair, rubbing the strands of silk between his fingers. Eragon loved the feelings of it, smooth, softer than any material he had ever touched, except her milky skin.

Under Glaedr-elda's supervision, Eragon resumed using magic. Apparently, when the body was under as much distress as the Rider experienced, spellcasters often had physical and psychological barriers they must overcome in order to use magic at their full extent again. He was progressing quite quickly, soon he would be at his maximum. A few deeper scars ran through his chest and abdomen, those the elves left behind to continue healing elsewhere, but he did not mind. There were other scars on his body for the same reason. Saphira, on the other hand, was healed perfectly. Not a blemish stayed on her scales, much to her happiness. No one would have let a dragoness soar the skies with a scar on her body, no matter how indiscernible.

It seemed unusual that they had not talked about his last trip to the capital. Arya usually would have asked about every little detail.

"I have the memories from your time resting."

He nodded his understanding, that settled the matter. The fiasco at the last dinner party ensured no one was keen on going to them, those that did throw one expected the Rider and the ambassador to be there last and leave first, or not come at all.

He had a book open on the other arm, _Domia abr Wryda. _It was one of those books that revealed more and more the more number of times he read it.

"Why must you be so studious?"

The princess's eyes were closed, and her body was obviously protesting the lack of interest his arms were displaying. Usually, Eragon ran a hand down her back, or through her hair, or up and down her arm. But today they were still and absorbed in holding a book up or lay still on the small of her back.

"Such maintenance." He sighed his mock displeasure before closing the book on the desk table near the easy chair, and moved his hands soothingly over her back. He saw a crack of a smile as her body immediately warmed under his touch. It was amazing how many different sensations his touch could produce in her. Sometimes it raised hot desire, comfort, security, safety, tranquility, but today, today it was simply warmth. The protective warmth that held the wind prisoner from her. She often felt Eragon was warmer than the roaring fire beside them, sometimes he was warmer than the hot blazing sun in the middle of July.

It was the third or fourth time he read that particular book, Eragon did not know why it captivated him so. History was never a subject to be particularly interesting…_it must be the way it was written_, he deduced. He sighed as Arya gently moved her hand over his side, she was far more captivating. They had easily three months left in Dras Leona, and then the march on the capital…and then, well and then he did not know.

"I have always wanted to travel." The princess broke his thoughts. "Not like this, not like traveling at the pace or in the stressful environment as I have. But leisurely around the world. The Spine, the Beor Mountains, the outskirts of the forest, and even farther north."

"Then we shall travel wherever you would like."

"What of the Riders and the political aftermath of this war?"

He shrugged, "The politics can be dealt with relatively quickly. The Riders, on the other hand…Glaedr-elda and I are under the same impression that it would be better to wait at least a few hundred years before the race truly begins again. Saphira and I need time to grow as teachers, not just as Riders, and the last dragon needs to grow as well, grow a long time before he realizes the enormity of the responsibility on his shoulders. During that time, we can do whatever you would like. Rule the Elves to your heart's content," she scoffed, "travel, have kids…"

"No…no children so soon." She looked up at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I want you to myself for a few more decades."

"As you wish."

"We can rebuild Vroengard in those few centuries, guard it. Go to Ellesmera, rebuild the race of the Riders there while allowing humans to come to the city to learn. And once the race is rebuilt sufficiently enough, and once I am done ruling, then we can move to Vroengard until you are not needed."

"And then we travel?"

"Then we travel. I have waited this long for happiness, I can wait even longer with you by my side. In either case, I will not be abysmal the entire time, after all, I will have you by my side."

He looked away, "I will always want you to be happy iet Drottningu, and it hard to believe that even after the battle, even after this land is free, we are still bound to duty, bound to it in such a way that I still cannot give you what you want."

Arya carefully lifted herself from her laying position and placed her cool hand against her mate's neck, turning it fully towards her. In a prolonged moment, she let her lips explore his, a cat lapping at its milk, long, leisurely, and oh so pleasurably.

"I have what I want, iet Shurtugal, I have always had what I wanted, I will always have what I want as long as I have you."

He furrowed his eyebrows, "What of traveling?"

She smiled before letting her head back down over his beating heart, "An excuse to keep you away from duty."

Eragon frowned, "I have a duty towards you as well."

Her voice was quipped with a little menace, "We are not in a relationship where duty calls us forth as mates. You would do well to remember that."

"I know that, I just, as your mate, I want to keep you happy."

Exasperated, she lifted her head up, "For the love of fate, Eragon, I am happy. Now stop talking like you are making me miserable. To convince a stubborn Rider such as you is tiring as it is tedious."

He made no reply, and simply ran his hand through her repeatedly.

"The battle is nearing Eragon…far quicker than I thought it would."

Thoughts raced through his head, it was true, they had barely two and a half months until the march to Uru'baen would creep in their sight. And then another few weeks until they actually began their march. The cold weather was making the warriors restless, but they would rather this winter be long and hard…and eternal, than the spring to come quickly. Uru'baen, on the other hand, was suffering even more. Most of the people left the city to seek shelter and work elsewhere, risking the winter to flee the city. The capital was slowly becoming deserted, the only ones left were those brave souls who waited for the war to come to an end or the soldiers who were left no choice but to join the war effort for food and money. Part of Eragon regretted depleting the city as they had, it was an unethical tactic, but the weaker the Empire was, the stronger they were, and the quicker the war could end.

"Arya, you will not like what I have to say."

Her voice was carefully guarded as she replied, "Then do not say it."

He sighed, "You know I cannot do that." The Rider paused, collecting his thoughts, "I do not think it wise that you accompany me when I face the king."

She stayed silent for a moment, the silence Eragon knew to be seething with a barely controlled temper.

"You are right, you should have stayed silent."

"Arya…" She got off him, and he instantly missed her warmth, her comfort. "Arya, it could be dangerous…a liability."

She turned on him, gave him a hard look, and walked out the door. The princess heard no footsteps behind her, he was not coming to apologize, not this time. Fine, it was to be so, she opened the door and nearly reeled back from the wind. The snow had started and it was not a light breeze by any means, so the princess trailed up to the only place she knew best, the dragon hold.

_Saphira, do not even pretend to protect your Rider from my wrath today. He called me a liability. _

The massive dragoness lifted her head up and nudged her head, urging the princess to sit next to her.

_What has he done this time? _

_He casually said that I was dangerous to him. I understand that he is more powerful, but I can hold my ground, I can provide a distraction, I can do anything he would need me to. _

_Perhaps. _

_What do you mean 'perhaps'? _

_He needs you to stay alive. _

_I do not believe you._

_It is not that you do not believe me, it is that you do not want to believe me. Did he not tell you, in the ancient language, that he felt protected by you?_

…_Yes, he did. What has that anything to do with this? However that could have changed. _

_Think, Little princess, he feels protected by you, that is true, he said 'it was a liability'. Not that you were a liability. He is hiding the truth, he is hiding why he really wants you stay away from him. _

_Do you know? _

_Of course I know what he is hiding, and why he is hiding it. But that I cannot tell you. It is something that you must deal with together. I only tell you what I have because I do not agree with his logic. _

_I do not want to see him. _

_Oh Little princess, I have the fire in my body, the hottest element rivaled only by the sun, and yet you sit here shivering. You wish to see him, you wish to be by him even if it is not in your waking thoughts. _

It was true, she reluctantly got up, affectionately bid the dragoness good-bye and slowly walked back down to their room. Entering the room, she saw his form by the window, staring out in the storm, calm, yet deeply troubled. When she entered, his eyes turned to look at her, his cerulean eyes so…afraid, from what she did not know.

"My tolerance with you is hanging by a thread."

"Forgive me." He turned his head back outside, his form was straight, yet strangely burdened.

"Say it in the Ancient Language, say that I am a liability in the language where you cannot lie."

"You know I cannot."

She strode over to him, "Then why would you say such a thing?"

"I do not think I will survive the battle Arya." He caught her gaze, his face slightly maniacal, driven crazy by the prospects in his mind, "For the first time since the war started, I have begun to realized that I truly may not survive this battle. I am more than likely to be killed by his hand."

"All the reason you need help."

He strode away from the window to the center of the room, "Do you not understand? I will die, six or seven of his eldunari caused Saphira and I a great deal of damage, a month's worth of rest. His entire horde is nearly twenty or thirty times that. It is impossible odds and I will be damned if I take you with me. I cannot do that to you, I will not fight by your side!"

She made over to his larger frame braced over the chair. His shoulders were tensed, his head horribly straight, his eyes hung on the ground. Laying a gentle hand over the middle of his back, she leaned in closer. He made no move, neither stiffening, nor relaxing under her touch. The princess sighed before moving even closer and wrapping both arms around his back, leaning her head down on the back of his shoulder.

And he finally relaxed in her embrace. Leaning back, Eragon clasped her arms to his body, holding her in, locking her to him.

"For the first time, iet Drottningu, I have gauged how powerful the king actually is, and for the first time, I feel fear, and not for myself. It was so soon that I had found something to live for, so soon that I have a tangible goal, someone to live for, and I fear losing that. I fear losing you. I thought, just by chance, some lucky stroke of fate would keep me alive that I would not fear losing you as well if you were far away from all of it, and that if I were to die, I could die in peace knowing you were still safe. I should have known better. I am truly sorry Arya. I do feel safe with you, I am the liability to you."

She sighed against his back, laying her cheek flat against the roped muscle laying steady against his middle of his shoulder blades. "Ssh, we make each other stronger remember, or were those words in Ellesmera simply words. We make each other stronger, never weaker. You could never be a weakness, not to anyone, and especially not to me. We all have our fears Eragon. I fear the dark, I used to fear the dark. Before we were mates, I used to sleep with one lone candle lit in some dark corner of the room. Durza tortured me with it as well. And then you came, and every time I sleep in your arms, by your side, I no longer fear it. You fear that monster, have me by your side, and I will take that fear away. He can separate us, but he cannot take me from you. I will always be yours Eragon, always. Whether in this world or the world of the dead, I will always be yours."

"I love you, you know I do."

"I know. Now rest, it is late and Angela will be very upset with the both of us if she discovers we are 'stressing' the precarious condition of our rapidly recovering bodies."

He turned in her arms, a small smile on his face, the first notion of being rather relaxed from his latest escapade in the Empire's heart. Lifting the princess easily in his arms, he carried her to the bed and blew out the candles in a short word. Slipping underneath the blankets, they both huddled close around each other. The embers from the fireplace were still burning, but softly, after all the room needed to be heated. Yet Arya turned away from the light, casting her gaze into the darkness of the room, and down at the resting form of her mate who lay comfortably on her chest. Closing her eyes, she ran her hands through his thick brown locks of hair. They were getting longer, but were somehow dashing to her. She felt the curve of his smile as her hand brushed his cheek and stubbly jaw. She felt his carelessly run a hand up and down her leg as it settled comfortably across her abdomen, just underneath her chest. Her own two legs were trapped under his considerably larger and far heavier frame, but she was not complaining. It was wonderfully comfortable, wonderfully peaceful.

She abhorred arguing with him. A fight between them made her…awkward. It truly made her feel out of place in the world she was fighting so hard to be in. Arya knew he meant well, but distancing the two of them would only end in disaster for them both. They were too far in their relationship, there were no what ifs or hypothetical any longer. Only absolutes, they either were or were not, nothing in between. He knew it too, and he was willing to push them into the 'were not' for own safety, yet even that was highly dangerous. Their love was explosive, their attraction, their feelings were stronger than ever, and the worst part was they could not be themselves without the other. Their bond ran similarly to the Rider and dragon, Saphira had even said it was so. No longer could they exist without the other. Arya's true name had changed, changed so it had incorporated her relationship with Eragon, and if she was not mistaken, so had his. Neither Arya nor Eragon existed as themselves any longer, they were Arya and Eragon, irrevocably connected to the end of fate…if there was such a thing.

He fell into a deep sleep fast, one he would never forget. It had been what seemed like an eternity since Eragon truly dreamed, actually, truly had a nightmare. But the subconscious knowledge of the last few months to come had strained him further than he knew.

_The Rider walked around the grounds of a large fortress. It was atop a mountain, surrounding the peak, built with the mountainous terrain, and far more magnificent than the dwarves Tronjheim. It was Vroengard in all its magnificence. _

_A small voice called out to him, it did not say Eragon, Shadeslayer, Rider, Shurtugul, or even ebirthil. Nay, the voice called out to him "Father! Father!" _

_Spinning quickly on his heels, he picked up the little girl from the ground and carried her high in his arms. The child's mother was walking slowly towards them, her raven black tresses and emerald eyes unmistakable. The future Elvin Queen strode over to them in all her regality, her gait powerful, and her eyes loving. But only for her family, only for him. _

_He smiled as she edged closer, immediately seeking shelter in his arms while their daughter spun her head around in the different directions. Eragon placed a kiss on his mate's forehead. _

_And suddenly a large black dragon came over the horizon, heading towards them with unmatchable speed, and on that dragon was Galbatorix, alive and back for more than just revenge. One spell erupted from the dark tyrant's hand and Eragon was sent reeling back to the past, back to all the deaths, back to the war, back to the death of his mate…_

The Rider woke with a start, his body rigid and shooting straight out of the bed. He was doused in sweat, a fine sheen covering his body – his perspiration another sign of his distress in the colder room. The princess next to him slowly raised herself up to meet him, her movements purposely steady for the sake of saving him the alarm.

"Iet skolir, what is it?"

The Rider shook his head…it was a nightmare, nothing more. Slowly pushing him down, Arya laid her ear against his frantically beating heart. Gently, she slipped a hand under his felt pants, resting on his smooth hip bone, caressing the taut skin back and forth with her thumb. He calmed slowly, and brought his arm across her back and the other holding her hand prisoner against his body.

Little did he know these nightmares would become more and more frequent as the final battle loomed on the horizon, little did he know why it was so.

The last voice he heard that night was not his mate's, his dragon's, or even his master's. But rather that of his conscience.

_It is impossible._

_Impossible._


	18. Chapter 43 The Long Wait Begins

Chapter 43 The Long Wait begins

The previous feeling of the days blurring together was quickly crumbling. They did not have the luxury of blurry days, rather each was crystal clear with set tasks and feelings as the final march loomed nearer and nearer.

Ways of preserving food with conserving energy were constantly being tried and tested. Battle arrangements, formations, and other preparations were being discussed. It was during one of these discussions that Eragon found himself one bright Tuesday morning.

"Milady," General Caleb was beginning his spiel on the matter. Caleb, the newly instated leader of Belatona, had prepped his soldiers for battle and joined the Varden before their march on the Empire. He was appointed to a General after Nasuada realized his troops would not listen to anyone else but him and his subordinate officers. Nasuada wisely kept his soldiers in her favors by allowing them the same configuration as before. However skilled as he was in politics, Caleb was a dimwit in battle tactics.

Naturally the entire meeting inwardly groaned in displeasure.

"I believe it best that we attack full on, show them we are not afraid of them."

"_How?_" The dwarves were losing patience with his advice. "How do you propose we do that? We have neither the means nor the method to break down a wall that fortified. You forget, General Caleb, that before the humans were there, the elves were, and their fortification is superior to any of the defenses we have ever faced, including the one of the city we now stand in."

The humorous part of the entire ordeal was that the dwarves were quick to praise the elves just to make the man stay quiet. Usually, the dwarves would be the first to insult them and the last to ever consider their work among the best quality.

"But the message must be sent. How it is to be done is irrelevant."

The Rider made an effort not to make a sarcastic comment, no doubt because of the ever stationary presence in his mind telling him to play nice. Normally, he was the one tell that to Arya.

"General Caleb, while the message is important, winning the battle is even more important. We can deliver our message once we have won. If we attack with full force at once, tired as their soldiers are, they will pummel us to the ground with their high turrets, towers, and watch posts. One of their weapons that we do not have large quantities of are crossbows, and with them, the Empire soldiers can easily aim and fire down at us nearly twice the distance and accuracy that we can at them with our longbows."

"What do you suppose we do Shadeslayer?"

He sighed and looked again at the fortress and the map.

"We call them out of the fortress." He paced around to the other side picking up markers and explaining his theory.

"Galbatorix is a coward. The only reason he has not come out of the his castle is because he knows his life is in danger every moment he steps outside. And not just from us, from his own people and his own generals. Tabor has already betrayed him, and there are several others looking for the perfect opportunity. He will send his soldiers just outside of the fortress if it means a solitary castle for a few days or so. The Empire is also running low on fuel, they cannot as a city survive on their own in a hostile environment. They will use the opportunity to step outside for long periods of time to hunt and get uncontaminated water. They will take the opportunity. In the meantime of the battle, Saphira and I, with a select group of warriors will infiltrate the castle and try to overthrow the king as quickly as possible. The battle may not last very long, or it may last longer than predicted. However, as long as I am here, the king will not willingly come out."

"Why will he not Argetlam?"

The truth was Galbatorix would not risk the distance between himself and the eldunari, but he could not tell that to Chief Freowin.

"He will not venture out into an unprotected area, it is his customary trait."

Nasuada was quick to change the topic, she knew how sensitive it was.

"Chief, when is King Orik arriving with the next dwarven clans?"

Eragon's brother in honor was recently married, crowned king, and tasked with arranging the resources for this battle. They had recently left with newly forged weapons, stronger armor and shields, and of course, stronger ale.

Orik was missing these past few months, and the new king sorely missed the action.

His eyes shot to the quiet elves in the corner, Islanzadi stood stoic, glancing up and around occasionally. Vanir was casually leaning against the pole, deep in his own thoughts, but he looked only for his mate. She stood a tad farther from her mother, apart from all the races it seemed. Unlike the others, her eyes were trained on him, analyzing every word, every movement, every gesture of his without fail. She sensed the fear in him, the one he tried so hard to shove away.

Eragon thought she was asleep these past few days, truth was she was watching him, listening to him lie awake and stare the ceiling while subconsciously gripping her slim body tighter and tighter. There were not nightmares, he simply refused to sleep and his eyes were beginning to show the signs of tiredness.

Her voice rang out from the shadows she created for herself, "It seems we have discussed all we can today. We should wait until King Orik arrives before we discuss any placement options, the new weapons and armor will undoubtedly change whatever plans we have."

He was silently grateful to her for ending the meeting. They walked out into the cold, huddling close together to preserve the little warmth between their bodies. Their tower was not nearly as far from Nasuada's as the others, something they were both incredibly grateful for. Quickly making their way up to the now enclosed Dragonhold, they both huddled under Saphira's wing for warmth. The large dragoness made an offhand comment on getting back at him for waking her up at "only eleven o' clock in the morning" but nonetheless shifted her wing so they were completely engulfed in her warmth.

The Rider closed his eyes, leaning against the strong body of his dragon. The nights of forcing himself awake after only an hour or so of shut eye were getting to him.

"If you slept longer, you would not be so tired."

A quirk on his lips told her he should have known she was watching him quite intently the past nights.

"I am getting nightmares when I do Iet Drottningu. I cannot stand them much longer, so I try and prevent myself from having them."

She rested a hand on his abdomen, her head coming down to rest on his perfectly placed shoulder.

"Of what?"

He swallowed, reluctant to relive the visions. "I am walking in the field. Vroengard is near to me, built in all its glory. A voice calls from behind me, my daughter…our daughter. I pick her up in my arms, and I see you walking over the hill in all your magnificence. And I remember thinking you were absolutely beautiful, none of the sights in the world could compare to you."

A smile was etched on his features.

But then it flitted away instantly.

"And the next second, there is a rumbling from the high mountain and Galbatorix on his black dragon are coming closer and closer every second. I see Saphira in the distance, overrun by the black dragon. I am frozen, I did not know what to do. In an instant, he raises his hand, the power gathering into some form of black magic resting on his palm, it hits me, and I go flying back. But instead of fields, I am flying backwards through every single loss, my father, my uncle, my brother, my masters, and finally the last vision before I get up is your death…"

Closing his eyes, he let the tears leak down his cheek.

_Little one, these visions you call them are nothing more than a projection of your own fear. Glaedr-elda told you days ago that your emotions are interlocked with your magic. Our escapade from the Empire has rendered you fearful. I feel the effects of it as well, our magic is interlocked that deeply. These few more weeks we have left, you must learn to overcome your fear of him or you will fail against him in battle. You need your strength, all of it, not the tiny fraction you are capable of having. _

_How do I get rid of it?_

_Same as you did last time, think of love. _

_What if it does not work?_

_By thinking of the negative you have already increased its chances. You need not think of it now, but soon you must learn to fill your heart with love when you fight. Only then will you have the power to defeat him. Remember that. _

He nodded his understanding, but moved to silence. The visions were what rendered him silent. Even in his waking time he thought of little else.

"You never feared before. Why now?"

His cerulean, troubled eyes looked at her, almost breaking her heart.

"I have never thought of our future before either. Now all I can think of…is losing it."

The princess shook her head, "You can never lose the future that has not happened yet."

"Then you cannot lose any future."

She smiled her signature smile, "Then you will not lose your future."

_Little Princess speaks wisely, you would do well to listen. _

"You are twisting my words." He reprimanded.

"My dear Rider, the fact that your words can be twisted shows how weak they are. The weaker the words, the weaker the defense for the words. You will not fear him, you have no fear in this world. He fears you. He knew when you entered the castle, yet he did not confront you until he knew you to be quite tired. He is scared of facing you, he is scared of facing your true power. Or do you think he has not heard from his spies deep in the battles of how you vanquished the Power of Dark, or how you bested the Shade out of pure anger or how you felled tens of thousands of men, or even how you brought down the beasts of Face-Painters? Believe me, he fears you more than you fear him. He sees his end, while you only see an end. He has less options that you do, and less power to make use of them as well."

_And you are forgetting me Little One, I am not so weak as I was before. _

_When have you ever been weak? _

_When I was arrogant, unfortunately._

_You have always been proud to be a dragon, Saphira, and with good reason. There is no weakness in that. _

_Pride in what you are and arrogance because of what you are, can be two vastly different beings. Pride in being a dragon can never be a weakness. The arrogance in thinking I was superior to all others around, even to our enemies is a weakness. Time will only tell the superior. During all other times, I will be careful not to fall down the pathway that may say I do not need more knowledge. _

_And I Saphira, what am I, what is my weakness? _

_You believe loss is inevitable. The losses we have faced are many, but that does not mean everything we believe in: love, kindness, each other, will be lost. Do not believe loss is the default outcome. Fear is irrational, horridly irrational. Precaution, wariness, vigilance, these are rational. Not fear, never fear. You are Eragon, you are__ Edoc'sil Hjarta abr Draumar Istalri__ (The Unconquerable Heart of Flaming Desires). You cannot be bested without your consent. _

"Iet Shurtugal, you once told me our lives are wasted thinking about what has happened and what has yet to happen. Do not waste your thoughts on what cannot be changed and what cannot be known."

The Rider looked between two females…they were right and it was time he started taking his own advice. They had nearly two and some months, it was preparation or relaxing, but certainly not a time to brood on what has yet to come. He was not a man to fear danger, but his apprehension would not relent. The Rider could not put in words what he feared without incurring the wrath of his mate. He would tell her at a later time what he feared, but now, now was a time for faith.

"When is King Orik supposed to arrive at Dras Leona?"

"In a few weeks, iet Drottningu, in a few weeks he shall arrive, and hopefully the numbers will look better on the charts."

He paused, collecting his thoughts.

"The Empire still has numbers, starved or not, and with their arrows, they will most certainly have the advantage behind the wall."

"Can we get anymore people?"

"There will always be people, but not in the places we need. They will not march and fight this battle without incentive, and with the Empire contained, they have no incentive to leave their homes. In their eyes, it does not really matter who is control. For the past years, with the Varden on the rise, all the soldiers were called back from the observing posts to fight leaving the towns alone."

"We have nearly some ten thousand more elves on their way as we speak. They have gathered all around Du Weldonvarden and began their march. The forest is nearly left bare except for the scholars and the children."

"The total is nearly fifty thousand including the Urgals, dwarves, elves, and the newly soldiers from Belatona. It is not enough." He scoffed at the number, his eyes showing disappointment. "I do not think many will survive."

"I do."

He glanced at Arya, his eyes begging her for some hope. Gently raising his chin to look at her, she whispered, "All we have to do is hold our ground. When the king is dead, we will have won."

"If the king is dead." He corrected.

"No…when the king is dead. Make no mistake with my words. I am a diplomat, I do not make mistakes with my speech."

A hint of smile graced his lips as he lifted a hand to slip past her beautifully pointed earlobe. She leaned into his touch, glad for the warmth with the nasty breeze.

"Thank you." _Both of you. _

Saphira hummed in response, the ground rumbling under the vibration of her large fire filled belly.

Two weeks passed by with little occurrence. Both the Rider and Princess were needed nearly everywhere and therefore they spent as little time as they could in the room. It was rather conveniently situated next to the council, yet inconveniently placed the farthest away from the barracks, sparring rings, and other places of diplomatic importance. So, the pair usually spent their free time of a half an hour here in there in the market place where Eragon insisted on buying the most random of ornaments for his mate.

She, not being one for jewelry, resisted at nearly every step… which was where they were now.

"Eragon, no! I do not want it. I have nearly six like that. I guarantee you that I will not wear them, at least not all of them."

"What? It is nice looking."

She huffed at him, "So were the last six you bought last week."

He shrugged sheepishly, but gave the pendant back to the shopkeeper. Pleased with herself, Arya took her mate by the arm and led him away from that particular jeweler.

However, her success was short lasted when he spotted another ornament dealer. Saphira flew overhead, laughing at her predicament. Grateful for some company, Arya left Eragon on his own and stayed near the dragoness.

_He will not stop will he?_

_Nay, little princess, he will not stop gifting you with inanimate ornaments. He enjoys the look of contentment and happiness etched on your face even when you say you do not like his gifts. _

_So?…I sometimes enjoy being pampered, but a foot massage would appreciated over a collection of different heart or flower shaped pendants. I think he is determined to buy in one in every color for me._

_Ah, well, better you than me. I have yet to hear of a dragon wearing gems across their neck and I daresay I will not be the first. Here he comes. _

Arya looked back at the increasing figure of her mate and inwardly groaned at the sight fo another perfectly packed package in his hand. He gave her a sheepish look, as if to say, _what else do you want me to do?_, but she dare not ask, not when he was so willing to agree. That was true manipulation.

"Do what?"

She smiled haughtily and walked in some other arbitrary direction, it was beautiful thing to torture one she loved, that kind of power was a rather…fun feeling. Even if the request was one he would rather dislike.

"What else do you want me to do?"

He tagged around her, following her, close behind her heels. Saphira lazily glided behind them, amused at the pair.

"I have nothing for you to do."

"Arya, what else do you want me to do? I will do it."

She smirked, her smile growing from mischievous to innocently playful in seconds.

"Arya? What is it that you want me to do?"

The Elvin princess stopped in her tracks, letting the cold breeze wash over her chilled face. She shivered under the wind and immediately Eragon's hands found her pale, rosy cheeks, warming them instantaneously. Her expression turned playful to serious in seconds. There truly was no limit for what he would do for her. Perhaps she could ask, and perhaps he would do it, would promise her, and follow through. Perhaps all she had to do was give him a strong incentive.

"Why do you that doubt something so trivial?"

She leaned into his body, letting the warmth engulf her on the otherwise deserted city streets.

"Because it is not trivial, it never has been trivial." She answered his rhetorical question. The fact he would do literally anything for her was far from trivial.

The Rider flashed one of his signature smiles, "What do you want me to do Arya? Say the word and I will."

"Let me come with you when you face him."

His face fell as he tried to drop his hands, but hers had already pinned his hands to the sides of her face.

"You said you would do anything for me. This is something you can do."

"I do not doubt the validity of the request." He looked away, "Iet Drottningu, I did not fall in love with a submissive, passive, dependent woman. I love you, strong, passionate, independent, more capable than anyone else of making his or her own decisions." Closing his eyes he continued, "I could never have, would never have prevented you coming with me to fight him. I hate the idea of you being in danger, absolutely loathe the fact that you are always in danger no matter where you are. Especially when he is there."

The tears he felt behind his eyes were quickly freezing as they reached the outside air.

"I do not control you Arya, I do not want to. If you want to come with me to his lair, I will not stop you, I will not like it, but I will not prevent it."

His cerulean eyes opened again, instantly capturing her gaze.

"Arya, if I were to…lose you in that battle, the Eragon you know would cease to exist."

Her hands left his and laid themselves against his chest, leaning in further before she replied.

"What makes you think it is any easier for me to watch you leave?"

"Because, Arya, you cannot possibly love me as much as I do you."

She pulled away from his arms, the cold hitting her face as a wake up call, but that was nothing compared the anger and shock she felt rising through her.

Her words were slow and methodical, almost as if she was calculating her time to attack.

"You doubt my love for you."

"No!" He quickly replied, "No, never that. It is, dammit Arya, that did not come out right." He paused, collecting his thoughts before his clarification, "I am me, a Rider, a young boy thrust into a world he knew nothing about. And you are a Princess, brought up with a regality, pride, beauty, intelligence, skill, everything. Why would someone like you even glance in my direction, let alone show me love as you have? It does not make sense, it baffles me. If anything, you are so far…superior to me that…I do not know what I am saying." He sighed in frustration, "I need you more than you need me, that is a fact. There is no possibility that someone as perfect as you, as regal as you, could ever need someone like me. Ever."

"Collect your thoughts even further Rider. What are you trying to say?"

Her voice was laced with a bite. He doubted her, and that hurt more than anything else her mother said.

"Arya, I am so far below someone of your standards. I do not deserve you, ever. I am just a Rider, and you are a Princess, and that of the Elves no less. No matter how else I think of it, I will always be inferior to you. And it is because of this inferiority that I have faith that you will be fine without me, but I will not be. Because, in the end, I am still human. And there are Elvin men with far more nobility, regality, intelligence, those far more worthy of your affections than mine."

Eragon looked back up, finally dispelling his fear. It was a nagging thing, something that came up here and there. Sometimes it would come and go, other times it would stay. He did not fear the king as much as he feared losing her to a better man, human or elf. In the end, he was naught but a boy of twenty years, and she a princess of a century.

He felt a cool hand rest against his cheek, the silken skin of the thumb stroked his chin as if slightly putting pressure on his jaw to look up at the owner of that delicate hand.

"Quell your fears, Iet Shurtugal, there can never be anyone more worthy for a princess of the elves than the Lord Rider of Vroengard, Descendent of the Grey Folk, Shadeslayer, Bane of the Razac, and the Last Free Rider of Alagaesia. But to me a loving mate, a gifted lover, and the perfect pair bond. Quell your fears, for underneath this princess is a elf woman who fears that her quick temper and quicker assumption will eventually turn her mate whom she loves so dearly away. An elf who often feels her lack of ability to protect herself when her mate is around will eventually make him so tired of her that he will leave. You do not have to fear. You think you are of a low standard, I shall have you know that the Riders are among the highest rank or standard of all of the Alagaesia. Royalty seek Riders as their mate, both Elvin and human. Eragon…the type of honor, chivalry, intelligence, skill, pride, demeanor carried around by a Rider is far superior than any race. Frankly speaking it is I who is afraid of losing you."

He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing, "How can you even think such a thing?"

A ghost of a smile hinted at her lips, "Same way you thought of it."

_Have you fears ceased to exist Little one? _

"You knew about his feelings in this matter Saphira?"

_Of course I knew his insecurities Little princess. _

"Why did you not say anything?"

_Insecurities are best ceased when they are confronted first by the crippled party. _

The princess nodded in agreement as she walked over to the great dragoness's side. Eragon stared at the pair of them, when had they become so close? He smiled, it was the best possible feeling when family became one together. Saphira responded as affectionately to Arya's touch as much as she did his. And Arya, he often became overwhelmed with the feelings she ignited within him.

_Little ones, the days grow darker and the nights grow colder. We must retire to our resting place if we are not to battle the weather. _

The princess shivered in response before lifting herself up on the saddle, Eragon close behind her heels. Saphira took to the air, her massive wings temporarily hindered by the wind before her strength overcame even the fierceness of nature. Soon she was soaring high above the clouds, far above any gales besides the one she created as she sliced through the air with a grace incapable of being mimicked. Landing in the dragonhold moments later, Eragon quickly dismounted and closed the stone top over the open top, preventing the cold air from entering.

After a massive yawn, Saphira waited until the saddle was removed before curling next to the soft floor and falling into a deep sleep. Eragon watched his dragon fall pleasantly into the realm of dreams as Arya curved her arm around his waist. The princess smiled at him before he turned away and led them back to their own room.

As they descended the stairs to their floor, Arya began a new line of questioning.

"So tell me Eragon, what am I to do with all these?" She gestured to the various packages slung on his back or underneath a different arm.

"Eh," he shrugged, get a bigger cabinet for the items I gift you I suppose."

Her face fell into a contemplating frown. "Be serious. What am I really supposed to do with these, they are enormous in number."

Eragon smiled down at the lithe body tucked under his shoulder. "When the war ends, there will be many different celebrations, and this time no assassins to upset our mood. If I remember correctly, dancing with you was one of the most pleasurable things to do in the world. Wear these ornaments then, and dance with me."

She chuckled. She could do that quite easily.


	19. Chapter 44: The Arrival of Hope

Chapter 44: The Arrival of Hope

The days were blurring together. The Rider no longer kept track of how many days were left, rather just some arbitrary feeling that it was still a while away. His mind was thrown into the preparations. Finally, a month or so after the last day in the white tents, Eragon felt the usual power surge beneath his feet. His magic was returning to full capacity without a conscious thought, his body was being rested without the nightmares plaguing at him. War counselors did nothing but cease their doubts when he talked to them. Things were moving in the right direction for once.

BOOM! BOOM!

"Quick Lady Nasuada! There are soldiers arriving from the back of Dras Leona! Hurry!"

The counselors ran out, moving quickly through the crowds. Commander Alinor barked orders to sound the fortress and arm for battle. But Eragon looked first for Saphira. Jumping on her back, she quickly rose in the skies to get a better look at the oncoming men. But they were no men. Elves…thousands of them. Enough for the entire hill to shine as the sun bounced off their golden armor.

_Saphira, fly out and meet them. _

_We do not know if they are enemies. Although I hope they are not. Their flag, see that man at front, he is raising it at you. These are not Islanzadi's elves. The crest is different. _

_I should have brought Arya, she would know who they were. _

_You have yet to remember, dear Rider of mine, that I am always here. _

_Iet Drottningu…forgive me. _

She sent a chuckle through their link.

_Describe their crest on the flag. The symbol and quickly, they are nearing. _

_The wind is making it hard to see from up here, but it looks like a large shell with a sea serpent wrapped around it. Yes…that is what it is. _

_Eragon, those are the Water Elves. We are the Weldenälfakyn, or the Forest Elves. We are warriors and poets. They are Adurnaälfakyn, the Water Elves. They are not known for their physical prowess, but they are still better than humans. They have long inhabited the Southern Isles, but they are so skilled in hiding themselves that no one has ever seen their civilization. _

_I need you here Arya. And your mother. And call off the attack preparations. They are waving white flags. _

_Alright, I shall be out there shortly. _

The call for arms was shut off as quickly as it had begun. The massive gates of Dras Leona opened, Queen Islanzadi, Arya, Vanir, and Commander Alinor headed out. Nasuada followed shortly after in between the four horses on her own mare. Saphira landed close to the magnificent beasts the leaders were mounted on.

Eragon dismounted and stood next to Saphira. Her head was craned, but still arched up. Non-threatening, yet still prepared for an attack. The Rider rested a hand on her side and glanced up at his mate. Arya caught his eye, a small smile on her lips.

_If they join with us… we have the ability to win. _

_I know, __iet __evarínya nuanen, I know. _He sent her a knowing smile.

His gaze flicked back to the golden armored water elves. What looked like the leader stood proudly on his horse, but soon a messenger broke off the ranks and headed towards them with a gallop.

Once some twenty yards from them, the messenger stopped and opened a large blue scroll from a metal encasing with a strange inscription on it before reading it out in the Ancient Language.

His voice was differently accented, a fluid tone rather than the airy tone of the Forest Elves. It was enchanting, but the Rider preferred the enunciations he was taught by Oromis ebirthil rather than the Water elves ignorance of it.

"My lord and King of the Water Elves, King Asthraxis, had long since thought it best to refrain from the wars of the world of men and elves on the large land next to us. However, the recent battle has made it quite clear that the war has now extended past the limitations of land and into the area that we Water Elves have deemed to be our domain. We have been watching, waiting, gathering our resources and have finally arrived to assist the war efforts-"

_The Battle of the Sea was months ago, it was late summer no less. _

_I neglected to mention they were a tad slow in decision making did I not. _

_Yes, you did forget to mention that. However, considering it took your mother nearly fifty years to mobilize her armies against Galbatorix, I am impressed. _

_Yes, a remarkable feat indeed._

_If you two are done insulting my command I suggest you pay attention to these last words of his. _

Eragon shot a look of alarm to his mate. She had opened her mind to her mother to discuss any scholars recent revelations. At that time, Eragon sought entry and made his quite embarrassing comment.

_Forgive me Your Majesty. _

_Hush Eragon finarel, you are with your opinions. I need not explain myself to you. _

And with that she closed her mind completely off to them both. Arya had a small smile playing on her lips, her eyes glowing with a little naughty twinge. He forced his head away to catch the last of announcement.

"…has sustained years worth of damage because of the warriors from across the seas and their riling of the sea serpents. We are aware that nothing could have done with the large rocks falling on the beautiful ocean floor. While our habitat has been destroyed by your people, the Water elves understand that the reason for that brutality was necessary because of the tyranny of the current king of the mainland. King Asthraxis requests to be made part of the effort to usurp this king and return the waters back to their normal state without the fear of being destroyed once again, with certain conditions. King Asthraxis requests an audience with the Rider of the Blue Dragon before any decisions are made on your part. Do you accept, Rider of the prospective ally?"

The Water elf turned to look at him with a surprisingly blank look. He had long dark hair, darker black than the night sky. So black it was nearly purple under the sun if not for the twinge of green. His eyes were a striking aqua…dirty green almost, nothing compared to the gem like brilliance of Arya's emerald colored irises. It was as if this water elf's eyes could not see the distinction between green and blue. He was darker, darker than the Forest Elves, tanner, less dark than Nasuada, but still tanner than he had seen any human before.

"I accept the conditions of the King Asthraxis. When would he like to conduct this meeting?"

"Right now, if that is acceptable."

Eragon nodded, breaking off the connection with everyone except Saphira and Arya. The blue dragoness nudged him, urging him to be careful. The princess dismounted as he prepared to leave on a horse he sent for. She was whispering, not making eye contact with him, instead looking after the queasy horse that obviously had not gotten used to the sight of a new species or the dragon next to it – serving to give no hint at their relationship together.

"Be careful. Always on your guard. For all you know, they could blame you along with the king for the destruction of their homeland." She pulled the strings from the saddle harder, stroking the longer mane of the horse, "From what the scholars say, they are very protective of the ocean, nearly as obsessively protective as we are about the Menoa Tree." She let him have a glance then, her eyes shining, piercing through his mind.

Eragon stood behind Saphira, successfully blocking them from everyone's vision. He had to kiss her, there was no other option for him. Grasping her chin with his hand, he lowered his lips down to hers quickly, leaving her no time to protest.

"Do not fear for my return, I still must think of something to do to you for that stunt you pulled with your mother, you little minx."

She chuckled at him, running her hands around his neck before clasping him closer for another kiss.

"Careful. Please."

"I will be. I love you."

Eragon mounted the horse, held his scabbard down in the drawing position just in case, and moved off towards the holdings of the Water Elves with the messenger.

"Your name Sir Rider."

"Eragon Shadeslayer."

"Very well, Shurtugal Eragon."

"Your name, messenger. I hardly think it becoming that I continue to call you messenger."

"Nay not at all. Quandal, Shurtugal Eragon. My name is Quandal."

"Quandal – vodhr, do you have any greetings or special customs?"

"Nay, Water elves do not have vast civilization. Thousands as we are, we do not have the tens of thousands as the Forest elves. It is difficult not to know at least all of the people in the neighboring island, and perhaps half on the farther out islands. We travel beneath the water from island to island. The King does so nearly fifty times a day. He knows everyone, customs of respect between unknowns are non existent because there are no unknowns in our small civilization."

"How did the Water elves come about?"

Quandal led him past the initial guards of their slightly massive force. Most of the soldiers spared him a small glance, or nothing at all. They were obviously not brought up to know the Riders. He doubted there was any Rider ever in their history because of their secrecy.

"Both the Water elves and the Forest Elves are originally from Alalea. However, the Forest Elves settled in the forest up north, while the water elves preferred the islands to the south. From then on, early in our history, the mermaids of the oceans, true Aquatic elves mated with our ancestors, introducing the affinity for water in our blood. From then on, Water elves were able to adapt to water, breathing underwater for extended periods of time, a hour, even longer in a few families."

"Impressive, very. And the Aquatic Elves, are they still around?"

"Yes, the offspring, while they are a tad more mixed, either take on the appearance of a mermaid and live in the water, or of a more Forest like elf, and live on land. Together, we call ourselves the Water Elves."

"And where is Alalea exactly?"

Quandal sighed. "It is an unfortunate occurrence that no one knows. Most believe it was from the far west across the sea. But I do not believe it to be so. I believe Alalea lies north, past the Anora River, far north, past the Forest of Du Weldonvarden. How else can we explain the migration of elves from the northern regions down to Ilirea and finally past to the Southern Isles? Alalea is from the north, there is no doubt in my mind."

"You seem far more certain than the Forest Elves."

His breath sharpened, "Make no mistake, our views are different. They believe in knowing nothing for certain, yet we believe in certainties. They rely too much on facts and little on logic. Their science is too factual, speculation can be nearly as important as facts."

"The one who believes in nothing without proof can never be led awry."

"The one who believes in nothing but certainty can never have imagination."

"Yet, the Forest Elves remain superior in warfare, some art forms, and technology."

"That is true, but it is not for lack of ability, but lack of necessity. Dragons always had the ability to take Riders, but none did until it was necessary."

"However, expanding the relationship between elves and Dragons would have negated the war in the first place."

Quandal seemed to heed his words, but only briefly.

"Here we are Shurtugal Eragon. King Asthraxis, this is Eragon Shadeslayer, Shurtugal of the Varden, as I have learned they are called."

The king of the Water Elves stood up, his hair was easily down half his back. His skin was tinged slightly purple, obviously a sign of having more mermaid blood than the rest of the Water Elves. His eyes were a striking aqua as well. Far more prominent than the duller color of the messenger. He carried a trident in his right arm, the silver contrasting with the gold of his armor. His eyes were a little sunken in, his face prominent, sharper, far more angled, almost sharp pointy. Severe looking, serious, frightening to an outsider.

The Rider bowed to him.

"Asthraxis Könungr, a pleasure to meet you. I am Eragon Shurtugal."

"Well met, Eragon Shurtugal."

He motioned for him to sit in front of him before taking a seat himself.

"Undoubtedly you may think that I have called you here to harm you. It is true that you, in fact, riled the sea serpents to destroy their home with the idea of launching rocks. However, the damage done was necessary to destroy the invaders. That is not why I have called you to speak with me. This is about your father…Brom, and among other things."

His eyes snapped up, "You knew my father?"

The purple king nodded, "To be honest, Eragon Shadeslayer, I doubt many people of the older generation in this war did not know your father."

"And how did you find out I was his son?"

"Tenga. Shortly after you left his area, the wizard had scryed me and told me the son of Rider Brom had just passed him by."

"I see. What is this about?" He would have to seek out Tenga again. How that man knew his identity before he did was a story worth finding out. If Tenga knew, then it was very possible that Galbatorix knew, and if he did, he was one step closer to finding out Eragon's true name. The Rider wanted to be many things, another Murtagh was not one of them.

"The night Saphira was stolen, another egg was stolen as well. The Green Egg."

"That is impossible, the Red Rider of the Empire had specifically told me in the ancient language, no less, that the Green egg was in the possession of Galbatorix."

Asthtaxis shook his head. "Brom stole both, one he gave to the Forest Elves, the other to the Water Elves. Galbatorix must have lied very convincingly to the man, perhaps with an illusion of some sort to make the Red Rider believe they were in possession of the green egg."

"But it has been years since any of you were seen. How could you have had it?"

"We knew of the Riders long before they fell, but we wanted no part of it. When Brom's dragon died, she was under attack off the coast of Vroengard. They were flying away, but the other dragon, Morzan's dragon, I believe, was chasing her down. Brom was severely injured, and his blue dragon tried in vain to get him to safety. When that did not work, she tried to fly away with him on her back. Saphira grew exhausted from overexertion and eventually died in the air, taking Brom with her. The Aquatic elves saw her massive body fall down, we tried in vain to save them both, but she passed away in the night. Brom stayed alive. That is how he knew of us. He came back to the coast of Kuasta, his original home, telling no one of what he saw. No one dared question him either. He wanted a safety card, something unknown to either sides, in case his side was compromised by the large treasury of Empire. And so he gave the green egg to the Water Elves. Galbatorix quickly realized that no one on his opposition knew where the Green egg was, so he assumed it was simply…lost in transportation. From what Brom told us, the king had searched and searched the land, but made no effort to go past the borders of mainland for good reason. Little did he know about us on the Southern Isles. He let you think he had the egg, knowing that would give him some immunity if the time ever came to bargain his life."

"Why did you wait six months before coming here and asking to fight?"

The King looked away, "I will admit, I do not want to fight. The Water elves are not fighters. We are painters, musicians, jewelers, not warriors, never that. I was not planning coming at all, even after part of our beloved homeland was destroyed."

"Then why did you?"

The King turned towards the flap, and called out an unfamiliar name. "Estheria! Please come inside."

A beautiful elf maiden walked in. She was cloaked. The same black, nearly purple hair as the messenger, the slight purple tinge to her skin was more blue than the king's, but the resemblance of their facial features was unmistakable.

"Shurtugal, this is my daughter Estheria Drottningu of the Water Elves. And this is her dragon, Valianas. He hatched for her when she touched it a few months ago when it fell off its altar when the island shook under the attack. I did not know it had hatched for her. We merely thought it lost, and we did not think much of it, we do not have the same respect for dragons as those involved in the Rider pact do, and then a month ago she showed me how much larger it had grown. We could not care for him without the proper training. So I sought out Tenga once more and he informed me the position of the Varden and where you would be."

A green dragon a size of a horse entered under a blanket, they were trying to keep him hidden. He immediately nuzzled his Rider, shooting Eragon a quizzical look.

"Valianas, well met." The Rider bowed deeply, trying hard to let the surprise not be evident on his face. "This, Estheria Drottningu, is amazing. Thank you." She made no reply, her facial features etched with wariness.

He turned back to the King, "Your Majesty, I understand you maybe wary of what this means. Please allow me to explain."

He nodded to him.

"Valianas is the last male dragon in this world. Saphira, my dragon, the last female. Ideally, not now, but a few hundred years from now, we would like these two to mate and hopefully restart the race of the Riders."

"And what if Valianas does not want this?"

It was the first time Estheria spoke during the entire ordeal.

"I understand the reluctance. However, even if he does not want to mate with Saphira later on, he still must be trained and so must you in the ways of a Rider."

She was indignant. "I do not want to be a Rider, I merely want to learn to take care of him, what he needs, and in exchange our help in the war. This is all!"

"Estheria Drottningu, you do not chose to be a Rider or not. You are born a Rider. That mark on the palm of your hand marks you as one."

"How do you know about that?" She snapped at him.

Eragon pulled off his glove and let his glow a little, "All Riders have them when they first touch their dragon. It is called the Gedwëy ignasia, the mark of a Rider. Trust me, I did not choose to be a Rider. You are lucky. When you found you were a Rider, you had the means and safety to care for him. When Saphira hatched for me, I did not. The village was attacked and I lost my home and my uncle, my only father figure at that time, as a result. The village is still utterly destroyed." He looked away before making his point, "I know about Riders, dragons, I can teach you. That longing to do something more, that drive to become better than you are right now, I can help you achieve that. Ask Valianas, he is ancient in thoughts. He feels a need for the betterment of this world."

Her eyes went blank for a moment and then Eragon felt a presence reach out to his mind.

_Eragon Shadeslayer. I am Valianas. You speak wisely, however, we have our doubts._

"And they are?"

_How can you teach us when you are so young?_

"It is true, a valid question. I am twenty years old, and I have been a Rider for five of those. However, I have the experiences rivaling the oldest of elves. I have been taught by Oromis, the late Rider of the Old Order and teacher at Vroengard. I am the last descendent of the Grey Folk, I have the power of the source of magic in me. I am far more experienced than my age should have permitted me to be. I have bested many Shades, dark magicians, and fought in many, many battles. I have seen horrors of the world that never should have existed in the first place. And so is Saphira, she has been called one of the greatest fliers ever. The swiftest and the strongest than all her other predecessors, and not only that, wiser than any other creature to walk this land. Our former masters called her the best they have ever seen. You can learn from us if you wish it."

_And the mating business?_

Eragon smiled, "Trust me, Saphira does not want to even consider the possibility for another few centuries. Both of us need to grow as teachers for the next generation. And as for not wanting to…I believe in a few years that will be the last of your concerns."

Valianas went back to talking to his Rider, before Estheria spoke a few moments later.

"We accept your conditions."

Eragon nodded, "Thank you. I will tell you that you will not be fighting against the king in the next month. That will be my battle. Neither of you are strong enough to hold your ground against the king, and sending a new Rider and dragon in battle with only a month of training is suicide. You will train, but not to fight in the next battle. That plan will go accordingly with new armies here."

He moved to stand up, bowing once again before leaving the tent.

"Your Majesty, I will inform the others that you and your men are to be given full accommodations here in Dras Leona. We will march in a month's time, but we will have multiple war councils before then where you and your commanders will learn of the battle plan."

Heading towards the door, he was stopped by the king stopping him. "Thank you Eragon Shadeslayer, I am glad we could trust you with this matter."

He gave a rare smile before nodding in the direction of the princess and heading back out. Finding his horse, he mounted and galloped back towards his crowd. They were waiting patiently for him, but Eragon rode past, motioning for them to follow behind him as the gate opened. The Water Elves picked up their feet and followed after them, Valianas concealed well.

"We must talk immediately. The leaders gathered around the room, quickly."

"What happened Shadeslayer?"

"The green egg was never under the king's command, it was with the Water Elves. It has hatched for one of them, their princess, no less."

Saphira roared with happiness, elation coursing through her mind. She took off in the air, somersaulting a few times before landing again with a thud on the ground.

_We have hope little one! Hope! Finally, we can dare to hope! _

Her excitement could barely be contained within their link.

"They have expressed interest in training of Valianas and Estheria Drottningu, in exchange for their help in this war. He is only a few months old, not nearly old enough or large enough to fight and she is even less experienced as a warrior. I suggest we continue with the plan but with changes to incorporate the army of the Water Elves. She will be trained from now to the beginning of the battle only to ensure their cooperation and support, but not to fight for Uru'baen. Is this satisfactory?"

He carefully looked around the room. Islanzadi's eyes were the most expressive, the long time dream of having the world as it was before finally getting to her. Most others nodded, but his eyes sought Arya's. Her eyes grew carefully blank in the past minutes of his explanation. He furrowed his brow in concern, but she expressed her desire to talk later. Estheria, her father, and Valianas entered shortly after an announcement from Quandal. They went around the room introducing themselves. When the Water Elvin princess introduced herself, Arya seemed to stiffen even more. Eragon moved closer to his princess, making a comforting movement away from the eyes of the others, running his hand down her back. Her eyes immediately left the other princess's frame and locked on to his.

He gave her a small smile before letting his hand rest on her lower back. While the Water Elves were situated and their introductions done with the other soldiers of the Varden, they were left to rest in their new environment. The young dragon was especially tired, and he seemed a bit shy around Saphira, no doubt the conversation about mating getting to him. Eragon just chuckled at his reaction and Valianas shot him a glare across the room. Both Saphira and Estheria were clueless to their interlude. Eragon and Arya made their way to their room after the war council was dismissed.

"This has been an eventful day, has it not? Saphira, you finally have a mate."

_Yes, I suppose I do, little princess. However, there is much to be done before then. It is nice to know that I am not the last one in this world. I need to hunt, I have not in a while, and perhaps visit the little green one as well. Eating fish all day is unbecoming and I hardly think he has the skill to hunt the larger animals of the forest._

She took off to the skies, leaving them without her warmth. They huddled together as they entered their room before dropping their cold garments and nearing the blazing fire. Eragon slouched in the large easy chair, waiting for Arya to join him as were their custom, but she pulled a smaller chair across from him and looked into the flames.

"Iet Drottningu? What is wrong?"

She looked at him, her eyes shifting around, "She is beautiful, is she not? Estheria Drottningu of the Water Elves. And on top of that, a Rider. A princess and a Rider."

Eragon looked at her, searching her mind for the reason of her distancing. He found it shortly after, simple jealously. Jealous that she was not the only woman who would play a significant role in his life. Jealous that of all the people in the world, it had to be the more feminine, more princess like, more exotic woman than her that would be Eragon's disciple. He found her eyes, locking on to them, forcing her to keep his gaze.

"I would not want to be with another Rider actually. Mating with a Rider would mean constant separation because of duties and so on. Unless, of course, that Rider was you. Then the separation would be better than being with anyone else. Actually, come to think of it, I would not want to be with another princess. There are always those who are prejudiced against non royalty mating with royalty. Unless, of course, that princess was you. To be honest, I would not want to be with anyone, unless of course, that anyone was you."

The look she shot him was clearly supposed to be sent as a more of _what the hell are you blabbering about _look, but the smile and satisfaction took over her face.

"What am I to do with you?"

He held out his hand for her, "I am cold, iet Drottningu. The fire does nothing for me. I need you here."

She methodically left her chair and joined him. Easily wrapping his arms around her, he shivered as her hands slipped under his shirt on his back, warming him instantly.

"You could not possibly be jealous of her."

"I am still a woman Eragon. She is a princess, and a Rider, and quite beautiful."

"Truthfully, I thought of her features as resembling her father's, I never thought past her beauty besides who she got it from. She maybe a princess, just a Drottningu, but she can never be Iet Drottningu. Any princess can be a princess, but none can by my princess except for you."

"I know." She lifted her head to press her lips lightly against the underside of his jaw. "She likes you, I hope you know that."

"No she does not. Where did you get that from?"

"Eragon, you cannot be that clueless can you? She was staring intently at you the entire time."

"She was not! I would have noticed." His voice was indignant as he tried to recall her reaction in the war council tent.

"Obviously not." She sighed, "The Water Elvin culture is much different than ours. We have mating and what not, some form of fidelity. But they have no concept of the life long mate. They simply chose someone and consummate their lust. They may chose to continue that relationship for an extended period of time, choosing not to engage in intercourse with anyone else for a period of time, but they have no such thing as mating. Their love resides only in the water, only in the ocean, all other physical relationship are simply necessary for a healthy lifestyle."

"Well, as wrong as I think that is, there is nothing I can do with their culture."

"I know, I just…I do not know. Is that not more appealing? Just physical lust without the bonds or commitment."

"Is that more appealing to you?"

"No!" She turned indignant, giving him a hard look.

"Arya," he pulled up and gently took her chin in his hands, forcing her to look at him, "Why would I want a life with only physical lust when I only crave you? A life without true trust or commitment, without love. I love you, and I need your love more than you ever know."

"Most men-"

MATURE CONTENT DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO

But she could not finish that thought. He had silenced her with his lips, successfully lifting her over to the bed and quickly undoing her laces. She wanted to finish her thought, but she was quickly losing whatever she wanted to say. Simply unable to remember. Her hands knew exactly what do however, no matter how clouded her mind was. Stepping out of her leather garments, she pulled her mate's off with expertise before covering him in her kisses again. He was smiling against her lips, _damn him_.

But she was smiling too, she could not even remember the last time they had done this, but then again, it could have been as late as a week ago, or as early as last night. No…as late as half a week ago. This was far too addicting to go without for a week. She was a tad more high maintenance than once a week.

"I love you Arya." He voice was husky, gruff against her skin. It was a nice feeling she could make his lovely voice deeper, still make him nervous around her. But she was no better, even after all this time, she still felt like falling apart in his arms, falling apart when his kisses grew more suave, more serious, more intense. His teeth grazed her sensitive skin and she still cried out.

He made love to her, and she still would never tire of it. Her body still responded the same way, she was still as vulnerable to him as he to her. She still shook as he shook, and they still exploded together as they always did. That would never change.

END MATURE CONTENT

"I am not most men, iet Drottningu."

She smiled at him, "Evidently." And she snuggled closer in his arms underneath the covers, her wonderfully sore body cuddled against his.

"I am quite nervous however."

"The reason?"

"I never thought the time to be a teacher would come so soon."

Curving an arm around his waist, she pulled her pleasantly flushed body closer to his.

"Glaedr is always there to help with the training. But I do not doubt your abilities to be a teacher."

He smiled down at her, making no other comment.

"Speaking of which, when are you beginning her training? And telling Glaedr for that matter?"

"Saphira has already told ebirthil, and training, I would like to see what their abilities are before making any sort of plan. Saphira knows the basics of flying and hunting, but I believe even she wants some sort of assessment of their abilities. She expressed concern that his flying was shaky at best. Valianas would have been a great flier, but apparently the strong winds at sea discouraged him to spread his wings past the limits needed for strength and endurance buildup. Most dragons fly after a few weeks and are able to carry their Rider at four months or so. Valianas is two months old and needs to build up experience at just flying. It is cause for concern, but I have no doubt he will succeed in carrying his Rider at five months or so. But this leaves us time. I would like Valianas to begin flying for extended periods of time, ideally, when the winds were not so strong, but he will have to begin almost immediately, bad weather or not. It will be easier if Saphira carries him above the winds and clouds to a place where the wind is not so strong and then carry him back down until he is strong enough to do so on his own. Estheria, on the other hand, I do not know. The Water Elves are not warriors, yet they carry themselves with a large amount of weaponry and armor."

Arya nodded before explaining their history, "They, while having no need to defend their territory against other people, have had morbid encounters with demons of the sea. They will need to be trained in the manner of battle. But they are quick and agile, once their understand their bearings, I have no doubt they will be useful in battle."

"And their women, are they treated like equals, trained to fight as well?"

"To be honest, most women make their trade in the arts more than hunting. Water Elvin women, while equal in battle, are far better than the men at trade and the arts."

"Which means I will have to start from the beginning with Estheria."

Arya was silent, her hands moving soothingly over a recent jagged edge on his skin by his rib piercing his skin from their escapade from Galbatorix's clutches. His neglect for healing wounds magically was growing more and more prominent. His scars remained more and more distinct. Scars were considered imperfections in the Elvin race, which is why Elves usually healed themselves before moving on to help comrades. The princess never had a particular care or displeasure for it. However that changed, while she found herself constantly reminded at the countless times her mate left his body marred for the better of the people around him, she was constantly reminded of how many times his life was placed in danger. Again, she was at crossheads in her opinion on scars. On another note, she enjoyed the contrast of skin type on his body, the feel of it excited her. Often times, she wondered if Eragon would have enjoyed the same inconsistency on her body.

"Do not even consider it."

She looked up at him, a question in her eyes.

"Arya, I…I do not like evidence that you get hurt."

"Neither do I." She snapped at him, "But I cannot help but wonder-"

"I have no opinion on scars Arya. If they were on your body, I would love it, if they were not, I would still love your body. I do not wish anything to change because you believe it would please me more. However, the wounds can be painful if left to scar, and I do not want any more pain for you for any longer than necessary."

But she was already falling asleep on him, her voice began to slur and her words turned nearly incoherent.

"I love you Arya." Her lips curved upwards one last time before she fell asleep with it evident on her artistic face. Pulling the covers up so they sufficiently covered their bodies against the colder wind, Eragon finally let his weary body rest. It had been a long day, and an even longer winter.


	20. Chapter 45: Day One as a Teacher

Chapter 45: Day one as a teacher

The sun rose with an unusual fury. The bright rays reflected off the freshly fallen snow straight into the room and instantly heated any unmagically protected metal apparatuses…including the teakettle – as he very ungracefully discovered.

He yelped a bit, letting the burning sensation rise to its entirety. Dipping a cup in the water basin, he moved to douse it under water, but found his hand was no longer in his possession.

Taking the slightly reddened skin gently in her possession, she turned it over before quickly muttering the spells to cease the pain. After a careful assessment of the injury, she muttered a few more healing words and watched as the skin returned to its normal tanner complexion than hers.

"Careful next time, iet Shurtugal."

Arya moved to let his hand go and make the tea herself, but found her hand in his notorious unbreakable grip.

"Thank you, iet Drottningu." She smiled at him, letting her hand rest in his for a brief moment before making her customary tea. Eragon washed himself and donned his Rider's clothing while Arya donned her leather, thicker as it was considering the weather. Saphira was already up with the saddle clamped down in her jaws.

"Excited are we Saphira?"

_You have no idea Little ones, no idea indeed. _

_I think I have a little idea. _

Eragon chuckled his revelation as his body was drowned in butterflies and adrenaline, courtesy of their link.

"Arya, I need you to get Blodhgarm for me. I would like him to teach the new Rider the basics of sparring. I do not have time to spar with her and train her in the ways of the warrior when there are so many others I need to look after during the preparation time. I will start her off today, but I need Blodhgarm to see what he will do. Then I will teach her the history of Riders, and start on her training as a Rider. How proficient are water elves at magic?"

She answered quickly, expecting his questions, "Not much more than the basics that the Du Vrangr Gata know. They have the means, but their preparation and devotion to the study of magic is abysmal. They prefer the magic of nature and observation than actual magic. Only enough to get by in their daily life. Nothing a warrior would know. Not even anything more than the basic of healing spells."

"This is worse than I expected." His voice turned contemplative as he tried to think of the best way to continue

"What did you expect?"

"To be honest, a tad more than the basics. These elves most likely do not have the ability to use magic and fight at the same time do they?"

"Most likely not. However, all they need to be is taught. They are still elves, and their magic runs quite deeply. They have a lot of it, just untouched that it all."

"That is good to hear. Arya, can you and Vanir assess their battle conditions and fighting skills? I would like two warriors proficient in the theory and skill behind swordplay and swordsmanship assessing their abilities. And I believe they would take kindly to royalty dealing with them personally…as bad as that sounds."

"Do not worry, I will take care of it. Now go, you are almost late, and you are the teacher this time."

"I'm going…" he reluctantly left her side, droning on and on about a day without her beside him.

"Eragon?"

Her voice laced with concern alarmed him.

"What is it, iet Drottningu?"

"Be careful with the actions of a young girl. She may look to you for guidance in her new world and may unabashedly mistake her admiration for love."

She was silenced with a kiss so pure it left her lifeless without it.

"Arya, hear this and hear me now. I do not care if the entire population of women was chasing after me. I would still chase after you. I do not care if she falls so deeply in love with me that it puts my love for you to shame. Impossible though that is, I would still love you. I do not have a desire for anyone else. I am yours, it does not matter if she likes me, I am yours. Only yours, and I have been yours from the time we met to rest of eternity. I do not care for her as I care for you. I love you, you have no need for these doubts. If something were to happen, you would be the first I told, and then we, together, will deal with the situation accordingly."

He read her worry as if he was reading a simple children's book.

"You cannot stop teaching her."

"That does not mean you cannot be there with me while I am teaching her."

"But the secrets of the Riders…one who is not a Rider cannot know them."

"Arya, you know about the magic and the skills of the Riders, you can perform them. You have been taught by Oromis himself. You, more than anyone else, have a right to be there and to teach. And I hardly doubt there is much you do not know about the Riders."

_In any case Little Princess, I doubt she would go for someone who already has a scent of another woman ingrained in his body like Eragon does. Actually, she was most likely looking for the woman who has her scent all over him. _

_Is it that easy to tell Saphira? _

_Honestly, for humans, of course not. For elves, a few inclined on honing in on their senses. For these water elves, not so hard to imagine considering their senses are able to pick up scents past the strong one of the ocean. Eragon is also too pale for their liking. Too bulky, his face is too square-like, his hair far too short, even though most women think he needs a haircut here. _

Eragon subconsciously ran a hand through his thick locks, embarrassed that it was maybe growing out of proportion – a cause for being an embarrassment to the usual neatly kempt Elvin culture he was ingrained in. _Did he need a haircut?_

_Not to mention his gait is less elflike than it is slightly arrogant. That is something the water elves will not like. His voice is also far too deep and raspy for their taste. They like the sing-song, almost fluid words. _

_And there you have it Arya. How to kill my self-esteem in under one-hundred fifty words. Does my hair need to be cut?_

She laughed at him, "Dare not cut your hair. I love it long. And your voice is deep and strong, very sexy." She gave him an uncharacteristic wink, "Not raspy. And you are not pale, in fact you are quite tan among the men I am used to seeing. You are well muscled, lean though, not bulging and rather not proportionate like many men as of late. And your gait is powerful, not arrogant. You have confidence, not arrogance. And your face is beautiful, strong, focused, distinct. Sharp features, not elongated. You are very handsome, very attractive."

"Thank you." He smiled at bit, still slightly miffed at Saphira's projection of his appearance. The blue dragoness only chuckled at his predicament. His princess strapped Brisingr to his side before kissing him soundly.

"Go, you are already late."

Eragon smiled sheepishly before hoisting himself up in Saphira's saddle. The edges were getting more and more frayed, he would have to make a new one before he met the king face to face.

_I was going to say the same thing Little one. _

_What can I say, great minds think alike._

_That is not at all fair. I cannot make a quip without insulting myself in some way._

_I know, I have been practicing. _

She growled at him, her playfulness coming out with their trip.

_I have spoken to Glaedr – elda since you have been busy with the war council meetings. He likes your initial plan, but he insists that we make the point of constant connection as soon as possible. _

_Alright, then that is what we shall do. _

Saphira landed a few yards away from Estheria and Valianas.

"Estheria, Valianas. Welcome to your first day of training. Respect for the tradition and elders are two of the most important traits of all Riders. As such, you will call both Saphira and I either master or ebirthil. As we move on and on, I expect your understanding and knowledge of the Ancient Language to increase and therefore allow us to speak solely in the Ancient Language. However, until then, master is acceptable."

Eragon looked to Valianas next, "Your training has been modified from the usual regime because of your lack of experience in the air. Saphira will train you from now on."

Valianas looked towards the larger blue dragoness and bowed.

_Ebirthil. _He looked to Eragon once more before walking away with a certain regality and a swish of his tail.

"Estheria, correct me if I am wrong, but your knowledge of the Ancient Language is rather vast, however, its uses to you limited."

"Yes master."

"While this does pose an initial problem, it is not one unfixable. Needless to say, I had very apt masters who explained to me what I shall explain to you. But moving on, your training with the sword has also been limited. I understand the lack of need in a peaceful culture as the Water Elves. However, Riders must be trained in the ways of the weapon. After our lesson here today, I have invited Blodhgarm, a very capable swordsman and magician to help with your sparring skills. For the first few weeks, I will monitor your progress, however with the battle nearing, I must spend some time with the other soldiers as well. Blodhgarm, however, will be with you the entire time. But now, we begin with the history of Riders."

And so Eragon delved into the description of the history of their forefathers. Estheria seemed to lose interest, she was captivated by the birds in the air or the wind in her face.

"Estheria, am I boring you in anyway?"

She gave him a hard look, "Of course you are ebirthil. I came here to learn how to care for my dragon, not how the Riders came about."

Eragon smiled, her hotheadedness was not so uncommon. Perhaps this was the fallacy of all Riders.

"History, Estheria, can tell you a very many things about your dragon. You can see that up to this point, the relationship between Riders and their dragons. Thirteen Riders turned evil, and their dragons turned to little more than mere animals because of this bond. Sometimes, the Rider was convinced Galbatorix was right, others it was the dragons. The race of the Riders is not incorruptible, they have fallacies, _we_ have shortcomings. However, in the collective knowledge of both the Rider and dragon, there are a few times out of thousands that a Rider does turn rouge. History can tell you about mistakes before you commit them. That, in itself, is an immeasurable gift that should be learned to the fullest. Any other questions?"

"Why will this help me take care of Valianas?"

He gave her a hard look, being a teacher was harder than he thought.

"Estheria, the history of Riders will help you with Valianas by not leading him astray. You underestimate the bond between you and Valianas. You do not know it, but if you ever have the misfortune of being separated from Valianas, you will know first hand the strength of that separation, the strength of that despair. This will help you never feel that separation."

"Yes ebirthil."

Eragon proceeded to talk about the origin of the Riders. He stopped after a few hours, knowing even he would be bored at that moment.

"Estheria, how proficient are you with the sword?"

She looked at him in alarm, "I have never been trained with the sword, there was no need."

Eragon nodded, "I expected as such, however, I know that your abilities as an elf make you much more able to learn. I have asked Blodhgarm to come and teach you the sword. He is not only a very talented magician, but very proficient with the blade. I will monitor you for the first two weeks, after that, you and Blodhgarm will continue to practice together."

"Why will you not stay for the entire time?"

He raised an eyebrow. Strict obedience was discouraged, questions were good, but respect, respect was demanded at all times.

"…ebirthil."

"I will not stay the entire time because the war is nearing. The soldiers are getting restless, and I must be there to encourage them to fight their hardest. This is a very difficult battle and as numerous and experienced as our soldiers are, the tactics are quite tricky and the warriors know it."

"Is he nice, ebirthil?" She looked away and suddenly Eragon realized she was not so different from him. Scared, frightened, it was a new territory, a new lifestyle and she had trouble adjusting just as he had.

"Who? Blodhgarm? Yes, he is quite nice. Very calm, controlled, very approachable. If you ever have a problem with him, however, tell me immediately and I will personally deal with the issue."

As if on cue, the wolfish elf came in sight. Yes, it was true, Blodhgarm posed a threat as well. He was the one all women supposedly desired, his scent the strong one. However, putting Estheria with any other elf may expose her to a type of intolerance shown to him when he was practicing. Sure, he was good friends with Vanir now, but Eragon had no doubt Estheria would not take well to the first sight of trouble, especially in a talent as precarious as swordplay. Eragon simply asked Blodhgarm to make his scent less noticeable, which he gladly did.

Estheria felt her breath catch in her throat. The Rider watched her carefully for signs of a problem but there seemed to be none.

"Estheria Drottningu, I am Blodhgarm. Master swordsman."

He bowed deeply, his face hinting at a small look of kindness. They were different, they both together in that sense. Blodhgarm and Estheria, quite different from the rest of the world. Men were appalled at Blodhgarm, women afraid of the desires he ignited in them. And Estheria, she was new here, quite out of works. Her tan, almost purplish skin contrasted sharply and her midnight purple hair and aqua eyes made her hard to fit in.

"Blodhgarm, you and Estheria will train for the remainder of the your time together before the last battle. A week before the battle, Blodhgarm, you will stop your training with the new Rider and concentrate on your own health and well being before. I need you in top shape."

"Of course Shadeslayer."

Eragon stepped back and watched as Blodhgarm began with the basics of swordplay. He found two long, straight sticks in the forest nearby and started with footwork. It was dusk when they stopped. Saphira and Valianas returned when the sun descended.

_Little one, are you ready to make this connection between the two? _

_Of course. _

"Valianas," the green dragon looked at him, "how did the first Rider come about?"

_And while he is pondering that, Estheria, what is the best way to take off when there is a lot of wind?_

Saphira had addressed the newest Rider shortly after.

The Rider-dragon pair looked at each other before answering.

_Eragon the First found a dragon egg abandoned. It hatched for him and by some miracle, they became connected. _

"The best way to take off is to find a cliff close by and jump and let your wings catch the wind."

Saphira was the first to break out of their surprise.

_Good, very good. _

"Most Riders do not know not to ever break the connection between Rider and dragon during training. I am very glad you did. It quite a feat…quite a feat indeed."

His voice turned more ponderous than ever. That kind of lack of ignorance was startling. Obviously, they had not received prior training, they were too naïve, but that one decision on both their parts showed a kind of understanding of the bond uncommon.

"Today's work is done, we will meet at the same place tomorrow. Good night and get some rest."

Blodhgarm bowed to the elder Rider before turning to Estheria, "Until we meet again Drottningu."

"Until then." She replied dutifully. They made their way back to the tents for a well deserved rest.

_Did you think that was just as uncommon as I did?_

_Perhaps, Saphira, or perhaps we just made the same mistake as many others and they did not. It is possible that they are better Riders than us. Hurtful as it is to admit, well hurtful to the ego no doubt. _

_We should not assume anything. Remember we are quite new at this as well. Let us ask Glaedr – elda when we return to the dragon hold. He will have much more experience with this than we do. _

_Of course, of course. _

They landed in the dragon hold a few minutes later. With a heavy sigh, Eragon unraveled the large sack.

_Glaedr-ebirthil, it is I, Eragon._

_Eragon – finarel, what is the matter? Has the first day of training been satisfactory? _

_Well that is what I wanted to discuss. It seems that the lesson of never separating the link between dragon and Rider never needed to be made. They already automatically made that link. _

_Interesting, but not unheard of. Most Riders who automatically make that connection are usually well suited to being instructors themselves. However, not all Riders who make that connection are good teachers and vice versa. _

_So it is nothing to be worried about or nothing exceedingly amazing. _

_No, on the contrary, it is simply less common. It should put into perspective, however, and your ego should not be hurt. You must be more mature than this finarel. She will excel at some things more than you and fail at other things you excelled in._

_I will remember this, thank you ebirthil._

_Ease your fears finarel, and take some rest before you begin tomorrow. _

_Yes ebirthil. _

Arya's day was nearly as disastrous as her first day training men. Both her and Vanir were tired of explaining swordplay and the Water Elves were failures as pupils. Arya had no doubt that if not for the difference in strength, humans would easily defeat these elves with their greater skill. Eventually, the princess paired each Water elf with a Forest elf and began sparring rounds. Practice makes perfect after all.

Vanir walked up behind her and handed her a fresh water skin.

"Drottningu." She took it, thanking him for it.

"It seems we have our work cut our for us."

"Yes, Vanir – vodhr, yes it seems we do."

"And a new Rider in our midst, that too must be tiring for Eragon."

She smiled at the mention of his name, "That I do not know for certain, I will ask him when I see him."

"He chose Blodhgarm to be her sparring teacher."

"Yes he did, have you any objections?"

"Not in particular, I was just…surprised that is all."

"Surprised that he chose him instead of his own sparring master."

"Well…yes."

"His reasons are his own."

"But you do know them, do you not?"

"Ask what you want Vanir, but I make no promises."

"Very well, Drottningu, why did Eragon chose Blodhgarm instead of me?"

"He wanted to, Vanir, he wanted to. But times have changed. At that time, Eragon becoming a Rider was necessary and speed was of essence. You, hot blooded, young, impulsive, the arrogant elf you are, were chosen to train the Rider so he would learn quickly and he did. That is not the case with Estheria. Eragon never had a choice, yet Estheria has so many. Right now, the most Eragon is concerned with is ensuring Estheria is comfortable so we can ensure the Water Elves' support in the upcoming battle. Also, you are not kind when others make mistakes. I know you remember the injuries Eragon suffered because of your merciless training."

"I only did what-"

"Relax Vanir – vodhr. I do not blame you, it was an undeniable observation, not an accusation. He does not think it necessary for Estheria to go through the same rigorous training when they have so much time. Blodhgarm is also well suited for her. Also, Eragon thought it best if the best master he has ever had in swordsmanship trained the Water Elves in battle. It is not that he did not like your training, he did, still does, and still has the deepest respect for it. At this precarious of a time, he believes your skills and talent are best served for the mass than for one individual who does not need that type of training so early in her career as a Rider."

"Thank you for your kind words, Drottningu."

"These are not my words, merely observations."

They looked ahead at the numerous people in front of them.

"Oh dear fate," Vanir suddenly said, "these people are going to be the end of me. You there! Do not ever cross your feet that closely in battle. You will get tangled up as you undoubtedly have." He walked over there and showed the young Water elf how to circle an opponent.

Arya looked around the sparring elves. It was getting dark and they were tired. She called attention and dismissed the soldiers officially for the day. Many stayed behind to keep practicing. Her day was over and she needed her well-deserved rest.

She made her way up the long flight of stairs to her tower. The warmth and lights inside radiated through the crack of the door, Eragon was home. She smiled and opened the door. The princess caught her mate's eye and caught her breath. Even with is hair disheveled and a little sauce caught on his chin was he able to look destructively handsome. Her hips swaying as a seductress only for him, she slowly made her way to him, her eyes darkening as she edged closer and closer.

Wiping his chin, she removed the sauce from his face, tasting it. Delicious, it really was. But that taste was short lived as the tomato based sauce was quickly replaced by that taste that was uniquely her mate's. He caught her chin squarely with his hands, his hold delicate. Slowly lowering his lips to hers, he savored the feeling. The entire day without scent, her arm curved around his back, her lips on his, or her smiles for him.

"I have missed you iet Drottningu. So much more than you could possibly know."

Smiling against his lips she pulled him closer and closer until the only thing separating them were the breath of clothes between their shuddering bodies. She pulled away some time after, her hunger getting the better of her.

"How was the first day of training?"

Eragon shrugged and took his seat next to hers. "She is much different than me. How Oromis ebirthil trained me and how I will train her will be much different. Not that big of a deal, but a challenge nonetheless. How was training with the Water elves?"

She sighed, "I fear I will have to retract my previous judgment. Vanir and I have our work cut out for us. They have the strength of elves, but not the skill. I have no doubt a few humans could easily defeat some of these elves in sparring match."

"How long do you predict it will take to learn?"

She gave him a hard look, "I am afraid even if we have an extra month they will still not be in top shape for this battle."

"Would it be beneficial to ask them to stand down?"

Arya shook her head, "Although I hate to do this to fellow elves, they can be useful as the troops heading a battle, leading the charge."

"The main targets."

She nodded her head and looked away, "It is inhumane that I think like this."

"Arya, look at me." Her eyes sought his in light. "This is war, we must do whatever is necessary to win. You told me this, we risk our peace and sanity for the better of the world. It is necessary, fate decrees this, not us, never us."

The princess let a ghost of a smile show through before eating the hot meal in front of her. These thoughts were best left unacknowledged.

"Estheria and Blodhgarm trained very well however. I feel that he will help her greatly with swordsmanship."

"When will you teach her the arts of magic, meditation, Rimgar?"

He sighed deeply, "She did not have a Brom as I did. Her words in the ancient language are there, however, those applications she has learned nothing about. Then again, it should be interesting to see how much she knows of meditation and fairths. I am sure the Water Elves being the peaceful and artsy population they are, that she is far more proficient than I am in those subject matters. But then again, I do not think she understands the possibilities available to her."

The princess nodded, "And Valianas? How does he fare?"

"Saphira said it would be a month until he gains enough muscle to hold his own against the wind. He is simply not strong enough for the harsh winter winds."

"It is a shame."

"Indeed it is. I had hoped to show Estheria how to fly before the final battle, but unfortunately, I do not think that will be case."

"We have exactly two weeks from yesterday left Eragon."

He laced his fingers in with hers, "I know Arya, I know."

"I am afraid Eragon, so afraid."

The Rider slowly got up from his chair, moving closer to hers. He bent down on his knees, taking her hands in his own, covering them nearly completely.

"What can I do to take your fear away?" His voice was small, knowing full well there was little he could do.

She ran a hand through his hair, curving her fingers around the thick, long, brown locks. He gently raised his head, locking his blue eyes with her own green emeralds. Glancing down at her lips, his eyes flickered between her mouth and her eyes. Slowly raising his head to hers, he captured her lips with his own. Her fingers tightened in his hair pulling him closer and closer until his hands were wrapped around her slim waist and tangling in her hair.

Kissing him even deeper, she pulled him so close the clothes were barely discernible. She stopped for a while, catching her breath while he did the work for them both. Running his tongue swiftly over her teeth, scourging her mouth as he always did in hopes of finding new crevices, but reminiscing over the ones he had already memorized.

"Eragon…" She breathed against his mouth. Such was the intensity of that desire. Even after all this time, that had no changed, they would never tire of each other.

Reluctantly, the Rider pulled away, resting his head against hers. He closed his eyes, savoring the pinecone fragrance assaulting his senses.

"Saphira and I thought of a plan while discussing how to proceed with Estheria's training. A plan with the king."

Arya opened her eyes, taking in the appearance of her mate. His hair was severely disheveled no thanks to her, she smiled at that. His lips were swollen from the bites and nips of her teeth. His stubborn jaw reflected the usual nightly shadow he accumulated. His chin was just as defiant and proud as before, and will forever be. And his eyes, his brown turned cerulean eyes were pools reflecting her image back at her. But unlike that emotionless water, they held her with such a reverence anyone would think he was worshipping her like Dwarves their absurd gods. As if she was a goddess, his goddess.

"You are my goddess Arya. You always have been."

She ran her hands down the bridge of his nose, over his lips, on his chin.

"The plan? What is it?"

"Galbatorix may not come out of the castle, in which case Saphira will engage Shruikan while I engage the king in a duel. You, Blodhgarm, Vanir, Ceris, and Nari shall accompany me into the castle if he stays in there."

She frowned, "And if he does not?"

"If he does not, then Saphira and I will engage him and Shruikan as Riders. As we did with Murtagh."

"A Riders' battle."

"Yes."

"Will you not take any help then?"

He shook his head. "If he is grounded then perhaps yes, we can all engage him in a battle, however, if he is in the air on his dragon, then no. I am trained to fight in the air, no one else is. Not to mention, if I was to take someone else, Saphira's agility with a non Rider would be inhibited. I need to have free range as well."

A tear formed in her eye, but it was wiped away before it could form a trail down her cheek.

"I know it is not what you want to hear. But as a Rider, I must do what I do best, and fight as one."

"Not even me? Eragon, not even I can accompany you?"

The Lead Rider shook his head. "No, Saphira will have to do some intricate maneuvering, you sometimes get sick with the fast dives and flips. I know that, and here, sometimes here even I have trouble hanging on with some of the stunts Saphira will need to pull. In that time, you falling off is not so unimaginable."

"We still have a chance to fight together though? He may stay inside the castle."

"He is also a Rider, iet Drottningu, he will most likely fight as one as well."

With a wave of his hand, he sent the used plates and dishes towards the washing bin. He left the fire burning with small flame while his mate silenced the burning wax from candles. The princess let her tired body hit the mattress after removing her usual warrior garb. She sighed in contentment as seconds later she felt her mate wrap his body around hers and fell quickly asleep. It was a long day, longer than she had expected it to be.


	21. Chapter 46: The Daily Routine

(A/N) I am not sure why when I uploaded Chapter 46 it bolded and clumped everything together, but I have changed it now. Thank you for letting me know.

Chapter 46: The Daily Routine

For the next week or so, the Elvin princess rose from her slumber, jostled her mate awake, and trained the skill deficient Water Elves for battle. And her mate awoke reluctantly and got himself ready to train his charge. Eragon was happy to report the quick progress of Estheria's caliber as a Rider. Her improvement in meditation and magic were remarkable considering their limited time. However, sparring was a different concern. Unfortunately, she was not that skilled with a blade. Her skill was not up to par as Riders. It would be okay if her skill was…_bad _for a Rider, but, when a mere elf could best a full Rider, is when training must be taken to the next level. Blodhgarm was sent away to prepare for the battle himself, something he did with reluctance and with happiness. He seemed to enjoy training her.

And so, in that week Eragon began training Estheria himself in the ways of swordsmanship. With the amount of dodging he had to do, he deemed it was necessary to rid her of the stick and get a Rider's sword. However, her fighting style was not fit for Unbitr or Zar'roc, both being blades made for large hands with a long hilt for one handed use. She hated using one hand, citing getting more into a sparring match and quicker, stronger movements using both hands.

"Ebirthil, this sword is not for me."

"So I have noticed."

He thought about an acceptable solution.

_Arya, can you hear me? _

_Ah…a distraction! Yes, please tell what I can do. _

He chuckled at her antics.

_Is Lord Fiolr here?_

_From the House of Valtharos? _

_The very same._

_Yes, he is. He has a small platoon of men that he commands directly under __Lord __Däthedr. _

_Good, do you know if he still has the Rider's sword his mate had given him? _

_Yes, he never parts with it over long distance. Of course, he does not actually use it in battle, but it is never far from his sight either. _

_Very good, I must ask temporary use of it until the war is over for Estheria. Neither Zar'roc nor Unbitr suit her fighting style and I need to move towards a sword soon or else she will break every single stick we have in sight. _

_Would you like me to ask him for it? _

_Nay, I think Estheria should. _

_Very well, may the stars watch over you. _

_I wish you were watching over me. _

She sent her laughter through their link before receding into the depths of his mind, an ever strong presence.

"Estheria, I have a proposition for you."

"What is it, ebirthil?"

"We can no longer continue with sparring with sticks." He caught himself, "That is actually not accurate. We can continue with sticks, but I am afraid that you will learn nothing more from it. There is another sword called Támerlein, a large hilt for cutting and slashing. A two handed Rider's sword that I feel will suit your style better than these."

"Where is it, ebirthil?" Her eyes held a gleam previously absent in her training. "Currently it is under the protection of the Elvin Lord Fiolr, a captain of a platoon under Lord Däthedr. I want you to go to him and ask him for it to use with training."

"And after training is done?"

"I shall tell you another time Estheria, what will be done after training."

"Very well, ebirthil." "Go seek Lord Fiolr when Valianas is with you again. Take the rest of the day off, roam around the city, I hardly think it becoming you come all the way here to see this same field. But do not get into too much trouble young Rider."

She scoffed at him, "I will be fine, ebirthil."

"Getting into trouble is easier than it looks…" He lowered his voice for impact, "And I do speak from experience Estheria."

The Water Elf princess smiled a little before wandering off in the direction of the city. Saphira and Valianas landed shortly after, the green dragon was getting better and better with the wind. But he trudged over to his Rider and greeted her before taking off to the market himself And Saphira…well Saphira tackled him as soon as their charges were out of their sight.

_You have not flown with me for a long time, Little one. I am thoroughly disappointed in you. _

_Shall we rectify my mistake?_

He swooped up into the saddle, swinging his entire body into motion.

_Where shall we go today? _

_Anywhere in the skies. _

_Naturally, Little one. _

The ground rumbled under her laughter as her wings caught the wind. She lifted off relatively quickly and soared through the air.

_I have missed this Saphira._

_I know, Little one.__We have both been so occupied lately. _

_Saphira?_ _Yes, Little one. _

_How much bigger is Shruikan then you? _

Her body shook underneath him, he took it as laughter. _Quite larger, though not as big as Glaedr ebirthil. _

_Would he be as half the size of Glaedr ebirthil? _

_A tad bit larger than that according to Glaedr ebirthil. _

_What else did ebirthil say? _

_Shruikan is not as agile as I. Years of staying cooped up without flying much with his Rider will do that to him. While he has the advantage of size and firepower, I can easily outmaneuver him in close spaces. Not only that, his flight was labored when we last saw him, I think Galbatorix may have permanently injured the dragon in one of his rages. _

_How do you say that? _

_He relied on his right wing more than his left. If we can further injure the left wing, we can further inhibit his flying and he will be open for attack. _

_Do we want to ground him or keep fighting in the air? _

_Keep him in the air, most definitely. Taking him from the air will be easier than taking him on the ground. At least he will be inhibited in the air. Not to mention, we have a greater chance of separating him from the eldunari in the air. _

_We need to separate him from the eldunari indefinitely. _

_A small force to infiltrate the castle then. _

_Yes…but who?_

_No one knows the layout of the castle but you. _

_And we need to fight him together in the air. _

_Well? _

_Arya knows the layout too, or I am sure she can know it by tonight if she searches my mind. _

_Little one, I do not like the sound of this. _ _Arya is more than capable of taking care of herself. _

_I know that, but the thought of her in danger is the same as the thought of you in danger. Unbearable really. _

_We have no other choice. _

_Any elf can read your memories and do the same task, Little one. _

_But Arya is the only one I trust to complete the task. This is not something where the effort counts, she must succeed or we will not defeat him. _

_Little one, are you sure there is no other way? _

_I do not think so. She will not be alone. _

_If the king is grounded, then we may not have Arya with us. _

_That is alright, she will have her job to do, and there are many capable elves. In either case, I would rather not ask them to fight him with us. It ends with us. _

_Very well, discuss it with Arya while I talk with ebirthil. Perhaps he knows more of their location in the entire castle. _

Saphira swooped down to the princess. She was far down the sparring grounds observing two Water elves fight in a ring. The princess immediately turned her attention towards their increasing form.

_I do not feel like landing, Little one. _

_Very well. _

Eragon undid his straps and jumped the twenty or so feet left. He glanced at her receding form and looked to one he sought out. His eyes darkened as he found his mate looking for him. A small smile played on her lips as he obediently walked over. Many of the Water elves looked at him as he walked by. Some greeted him, most just ignored him.

"Get back to practicing!" Vanir's voice rang out over the crowds as Eragon moved closer to his princess.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, dear Rider?"

"Just came to check on the progress of the soldiers."

_I really hate how I cannot kiss you now, iet Drottningu. I am dying to. _

_Soon enough iet Shurtugal, soon enough you will be able to. _

Her smile grew wider as she edged slightly closer to him. "Your opinion on the skills of these Elves."

"Remarkable improvement I must say, quite remarkable. You have done wonders here Arya, wonders indeed." He smiled at her, "Arya, I need to speak with you in private."

The princess narrowed her eyes but nonetheless sent for Nari to fill in for her temporarily. They walked through the sparring ring until they came upon small conference room in one of the soldiers' barracks. He finally turned to her after closing the door after them both. A naughty smile on her part pulled his body towards her, kissing him soundly as he wished to do before.

"What is the matter Eragon? You left early from training, is there something wrong?"

He shook his head, "Nay, never that. I sent Estheria to ask Lord Fiolr for temporary use of Támerlein."

"Then?"

"We may have overlooked some key factors in our plan."

"Which are?"

"We did not think about separating Galbatorix from the eldunari. And I feel that is a key factor in his defeat."

"But if he comes out of the castle on his dragon as you predict he will, he will already have separated himself from the eldunari."

"Slightly, the distance is not nearly enough… I need you and a team of elves to infiltrate the castle, find the eldunari, and send them away so he does not have access to them."

Arya nodded her understanding, but stopped halfway. "If the king is on the ground, then I will not be there to help you with him." She gave him a hard stare. "This is not something to separate us is it? I believed we clarified such matters beforehand."

He shook his head fervently, "No! No, of course not. I…you are the only one I trust with this mission. I…Arya, you are the only one who does not believe in failure. Effort will not count for anything, you must succeed, or else Saphira and I, we most likely will not make if you do not succeed in sending them away."

"I will do it as quickly as possible and return to your side should you need me."

He placed his hand over hers, "Thank you for doing this for me Arya."

She furrowed her eyebrows, "There was never any other option for me Iet skolir, never any option at all."

"Who will you take with you?"

"Nari, Ceris, Vanir most definitely. Raerieth, Tydrenea, Blodhgarm, Däthedr, and perhaps Fiolr depending on whether or not Celdin and Lifaen can accompany us."

"Have they returned from Ellesmera?"

"Nearly a few weeks ago."

"A solid infiltration group then. You must know the layout from my mind."

The princess nodded, "I have your memories, those are enough."

"Saphira is trying to see if Glaedr ebirthil has any more information about where the eldunari might be held within the castle."

"Even if not, Lifaen is quite proficient at detecting magic. He can pinpoint the source in the castle."

"There may be traps hidden here and there, and not to mention the Dragonseekers will be thick in numbers around the castle."

"We will be careful, it is not the first time I have infiltrated enemy territory."

"Where will you send the eldunari?"

"To Crags, no empire spy will try to seek entrance into that forest."

The Rider nodded, "I…please be careful Arya."

"As you will."

"Promise me."

"I will be careful Eragon, and so will you."

"Wiol Ono, I will be careful."

"I will call an assembly tomorrow and tell them the plan. The less people to know about this, the better. Only Nasuada, my mother, and the elves I will take shall be there. Not even King Orik shall know, not even him."

Eragon nodded his agreement, it was best if no one knew what they were attempting to finish. He took her hand in his, closing over the delicate structure completely before bringing his lips to gently skim over her smooth skin.

"What is wrong, Eragon?"

He glanced at her, his eyes protesting the question. He shrugged his shoulders as nonchalantly as he could.

"Everything iet Drottningu, everything. I am just feeling rather nervous with the battle so closer. Apprehensive, anxious, worried. Just in a permanent state of chaos with this battle so close."

She stayed silent, looking deep into his cerulean eyes. Her other hand skimmed cheek, tucking some longer locks of hair behind his ear.

"We should get back Arya, you have work to do and I am keeping you here."

She knew that, yet she was reluctant to leave. Closing the distance between she embraced him tightly. Her arms curved upwards resting on his shoulder blades, her head perfectly tucked away in the crook of his neck. Without word, she pulled away and made back towards the sparring grounds to finish her training regiment for the day.

Eragon walked out moments later heading towards the Dwarves' encampment. He had yet to meet Orik outside of the council meetings and it was high time he paid a visit to his Dwarven kin. Murmurs of Argetlam came through the encampment but no dwarf completely ignored him. Most of his haters were cast out after the trial for his assassination attempt. The others were won over when he killed his half brother Murtagh during one of the Empire's attempts to take Feinster over again. He asked a messenger where the King set up his tent. The boy pointed to a larger tent towards the far east. Thanking him, Eragon made his way over.

Four guards stood watch over the king and as he approached one disappeared while the other bowed and let him through.

"King Orik." The Rider bowed to the royalty before him.

The short statured man cried happily at his entrance before embracing him as best as he could.

"None of that, my dear brother! None of that indeed! Please sit, what can I do for you?"

The Rider smiled easily as he sat down.

"No order of imminent business at all. I apologize for not meeting with you sooner, Orik."

The dwarf waved away his apology, "It is no matter. We have all been quite preoccupied with the battle for Uru'baen so close. And not to mention Farthen Dur and Tronjheim have finally been rebuilt and its people put back in their rightful place. I tried to come many times, duty of the state held me back and in such a precarious position with my the new leadership and the traitors, I did not think it best I left yet."

"I am quite glad to hear the Dwarven people have their home once again. How is Hvedra?"

A small smile flickered across his face, "Quite good indeed. She stayed behind to rule in my place while I am here." He, however, sobered up quickly, "And you? How is Saphira, and the elf?"

A twinge of a small smile at his lack of acknowledgement of the 'elf' threatened to erupt, but he stayed in control of himself. "Saphira is good, hunting or resting at the moment and Lady Arya is training the newest soldiers for battle."

"And you? Training the new Rider? I heard the news, quite wondrous indeed. Perhaps maybe the Riders will be back as leaders again soon enough."

"Before then, Galbatorix must leave as a leader I am afraid."

"Ah, well complications are in order of course."

Their easy banter continued back and forth for some time until night truly descended upon Dras Leona.

_Eragon? _

Arya's voice rang out through his mind crystal clear as the first day he heard her.

_I am listening. _

_Good, I have gathered the elves I will take for the infiltration. We need you here to discuss the details. _

_I am coming, I shall be there quickly. _

He rescinded from her mind, but stayed as he always did, a shadow.

"Orik, I must leave you now, more affairs of the Varden."

His brother in honor chuckled but bid him goodbye. The Rider raced through the streets back towards the usual council meeting area. The guards silently let him in without word. The elves around him along with Islanzadi and Nasuada glanced up at him, but again, his eyes only sought his mate's.

She looked up from the map she was leaned over and graced him with a small smile before raising herself completely up and falling into her usual blank mask. Indeed the usual elves surrounded him. Nari, Ceris, Vanir, Raerieth, Tydrenea, Blodhgarm, Däthedr, Celdin, and Lifaen stood stoically around the table. He nodded at a few, smiling a little at Vanir, but mainly focused on the task at hand. A group of ten Elvin warriors total would leave the battle once the signal has been given and enter the fortress.

"We plan to bring the Empire out of their fortress grounds nearly half a mile. From then, you can cloak yourselves and enter the city from this underground sewage tunnel."

He pointed to the only known ungated entrance.

"And finding our way around the castle?"

Arya answered Celdin's question, "I have the means to do so and within the week, so shall you. We must keep together at all times in the castle. The Twins maybe dead, but there are many other capable magicians in his lair."

"When shall we leave?"

Islanzadi spoke here, "By the time you leave, the warriors you head shall not need guidance any more. I suggest as soon as the battle is fully gone under, then congregate towards the side of the army, and then go."

"If Galbatorix rides out," the elves turned to Eragon, "I shall engage him in battle and keep him occupied so he does not know of this plan. However, should he stay in the castle, I will join you in the infiltration. But under no means will anyone enter the castle while he is still in there alone."

Murmurs of their agreement whispered throughout.

"We have six days until we march on Uru'baen. It will be two days walk there. We will continue from sunup to sundown each day and on the third we shall commence. Let no one know of this plan. The less people to know, the less danger there is of the king finding out."

The small group disbanded as each elf went their respective ways. Islanzadi chatted for a little while with her daughter, but it seemed even she was eager to retire for the night. Wordlessly curving her arm around her mate's back, Arya let the cloak hide her identity as she clung to him for warmth. Even as spring approached, the nights could be nasty without the sun. They climbed up the stairs noiselessly and entered their room. However, their peace was short lived.

"Ebirthil! Ebirthil! Please come out!"

Eragon looked at Arya as concern flooded his face at the distress of his charge outside the room. Racing to the door, he flung it open.

"What is wrong Estheria?"

"Valianas…He…I do not know what happened. But he is injured and quite a distance away. I do not know what is wrong! Please help me ebirthil!"

She was crying and obviously in pain. She had no wound on herself, therefore the pain must have come from across the link between her and Valianas.

The elder Rider beckoned to Arya, "Come Estheria, stay with Arya. Do you know where he is?"

"Up by the river."

"Alright, do not worry yourself. Saphira and I shall find him. In the meantime, you stay with Arya and come separately as fast as you can. Is that understood?"

"Yes, ebirthil."

Eragon raced off to the dragonhold to find Saphira already ready to take off. Arya took Estheria and led her to the horse stables so they could follow close behind. The sheer distress the Water Elvin princess was unbearable to even watch. If this was what that bond did, she no longer desired to be a Dragon Rider.

"Come, we must go fast."

Estheria seemed to gather herself together and urged her horse on after her guide's. Saphira landed close to Valianas. His body was mangled and broken from…something. Eragon could not see what, but it did not matter. He raced down to the severely injured dragon.

_Ebirthil…I am sorry. _

_What happened, hatchling? _

Saphira spoke to the dragon while Eragon began the extensive healing. Sounds of horses in the near distance signaled Arya's and Estheria's approach.

_I am inadequate. I wanted Estheria to ride me, to feel the joy of flying. But I was not strong enough. The wind took me and sent me through those trees. I cried out to my Rider, but I could do no more. _

_It is alright hatchling, we shall talk more on this later. __As of now, try not to move. It will be counterproductive to the healing. _

Saphira had a worried look on her face. If Eragon did not succeed in healing the young dragon…

_Do not worry. The damage is severe, but it is healing quickly. The bleeding has stopped now, it is just the broken bones. _

_Thank you, Little one. _

_There is no need. _

"Valianas!" Estheria tried to run to her dragon, but Arya caught her in a firm grip.

"Not now, give him two more minutes until the wings are healed and then he shall be able to respond better."

But the Water princess wrenched her arm out of her grip and ran to her dragon anyway.

"Oh Valianas! I…I am sorry! I did not know where you were until…until this happened!"

Tears flowed more freely, and the green dragon seemed to have a heavy heart. _Nay dear Rider, it is I who is sorry. I tried to do too much. _ She laid a hand on his jaw, kissing the scaly skin.

"Almost done, Valianas. All that is left are the cuts and bruises on the wings."

The dragon responded by growling as an acknowledgment of his understanding. Arya walked around the other side and began to heal the cuts and bruise on the green dragon's other wing, the more people working on the dragon, the quicker the pain would subside for him. Within the hour, Valianas was healed and alive.

_Thank you, ebirthil. And thank you, Arya Drottningu. _

Eragon and Arya smiled at the green dragon as he lifted himself from the ground to stand on his two feet. "I cannot not thank you enough…either of you."

Arya looked in Estheria's direction. The Forest Elvin princess's face was not expressively happy, but she was not angry either, simply understanding. "You are welcome, Estheria Drottningu. Shall we head back?"

Arya glanced at her mate and he nodded to her directed question, he did not particularly like the cold either. The princess laughed at his ghastly expression and curved an arm around his waist again.

"I shall see you tomorrow then, ebirthil."

He furrowed his eyebrows, "Yes, you shall. But I do believe you are heading back to the Varden."

"Yes, but…"

_I feel like a nice walk today, do you not? _

Estheria smiled at Saphira.

_Yes, Saphira-ebirthil. _

Saphira lazily walked by with a swoosh of her tail, amusement lacing her eyes. Eragon and Arya, still latched on to each other followed after her, while the other two followed them. A gale of wind would go by and Arya would huddle under his arm, seeking warmth. An owl would hoot in the distance and Eragon would try and imitate it quite badly before it took off, eliciting laughter from his mate. It was moments like these that they kept fighting for. Moments of no worry or care of who or what was watching in the distance, moments that brought out the most happiness.

"Ebirthil?"

Eragon was pulled out of his thoughts as his charge came up next to him.

"What is it, Estheria?"

"Lord Fiolr said, when I asked for use of the sword, that I could keep it indefinitely."

Eragon narrowed his eyes, unsure of why the elf man was so lenient to her demands.

"That is good news. I am quite glad. Does the sword fit your fighting style?"

"Yes, very well actually, but I did have one question."

"Ask away."

"Lord Fiolr said he was willing to give the sword to a worthy Rider and not some farm boy. I do not understand why he would say something that."

Saphira growled. _I shall have a talk with that pompous, pathetic excuse for royalty. _

Eragon sent his disagreement. _No, we are better than this. _

"I shall answer your question, is that alright Estheria Drottningu?"

Arya switched places with her mate so her voice did not have to cross the distance.

"Lord Fiolr is of a rather high strung Elvin belief that they are better than all the other races and therefore should have exclusive rights to becoming Dragon Riders. His beliefs are fortunately as outdated as they are strong. He does not believe some worthy of being a Dragon Rider."

"I still do not understand."

Eragon began to speak. It was easier if he clarify any doubts on the matter. "Estheria, before I was Eragon Shurtugal, I was Eragon Son of None. I lived with my human uncle and cousin on a farm. I am a human, not an elf. It was there I came upon Saphira's egg and I became a dragon Rider. At the time I needed a Rider's sword, I asked Lord Fiolr for its use nearly two years, but he denied me permanent use of it. I had thought it because of his love for it and possessive nature, but now I know it is because of the prejudice."

She looked away, "I am sorry, ebirthil. I did not know."

He waved her apology away, "It is no matter, it is a valid question."

"What will you do?"

"Estheria, there are many people who will like you or who will dislike you. That does not matter. Although I do not have the respect of Lord Fiolr, I do have his command. He is still answerable to me, his hatred does not run so deep that it poses a threat. We all have better things to do than become stuck on the little bumps on the road here and there while we are riding on a horse."

"Does his opinion not matter to you, ebirthil?"

He shook his head, "Why should it? He is not my family of any kind, and I need not prove anything to him."

"Yes, ebirthil."

"However, Eragon, even if you do not acknowledge this insult, I shall deal with matter more personally."

"Arya…" His tone was a little warningly, as if to simply dissuade her from matters of a simple insult.

"Arya, I have braved many insults, I shall brave more. It is no matter."

Her voice was small only soft enough that he could hear her. However, considered the elf next to them had quite honed in senses, there was little doubt she could hear to.

"I will not have any elf insult you. You are a Rider, the Lord Rider at Vroengard no less. However, to the Elvin people, you are their future King, the mate of their future Queen and I shall not tolerate any insult to you just as you would not tolerate any insult to me amongst men or dwarves."

Her voice was slightly cold, but he could tell the underlying fierceness in her words.

"You are mates?"

Estheria's question was slightly misplaced. However appropriate or not, there was little that silence the curious mind of a new Rider.

"Yes we are, Estheria."

She looked down before speaking again. "Forgive my intrusion, I merely wished to know. I…"

But that thought remained unsaid. "What is it, Estheria?"

In the smallest voice she could have possibly made, she answered, "I wish to know about my mother. However, my father only said that was an Aquatic elf that agreed to carry the heir of the Water Elvin kingdom. We do not have the concept of life long mates."

"Estheria Drottningu, do you wish to have a life long mate?"

"Well, yes, yes I do."

"Riders are law unto themselves in this land. They follow many customs, some of which are old, some incorporated, others new. Taking on one lover to the next without abandon is not a custom of Riders. All that do take a mate do so for an entire lifetime, while they may court many, they will only have a physical relationship with one. You may, if you chose, follow this custom. I do warn you that the custom of your people is not a common one in Alagaesia, and I highly doubt that anyone would take kindly to that view here if you chose someone from anywhere here."

They walked in silence once more as Estheria pondered the other princess's words. Once they reached the Water Elvin dwelling in a spare barrack, Saphira easily lifted Valianas up to the balcony of her room while Estheria went to meet him there. They said their goodbyes, thanking them once again and retired for the night.

"Eragon, how old is Estheria?"

"Late twenties. Quite, quite young for an elf. Really is a hatchling." He smile sheepishly, "Yet still older than me."

The ground shook under Saphira's laughter,_ You would be hard pressed to find an elf younger than you besides Dusan and Alanna in the forests of Du Weldonvarden._

_Age means next to nothing with experience. This war aged us beyond the years of a lifetime. _

_Truer words have yet to be spoken Little princess, truer words have yet to be spoken._


	22. Chapter 47: The Last Preparations

**Chapter 47: The Last Preparations **

Sooner than expected, the last day before the march to Uru'baen came quickly upon the Varden. The abruptness seemed to pass over them as well. The roads were unusually quiet, the leaders unusually nervous. It was as if the battle was starting the next day, as if their death was coming closer, as if they were marching towards it. Even the Rider was queasy, he was mentally going over every single lesson of being a Rider multiple times. Even Saphira grew annoyed at the constant reel play in his mind.

"Estheria, are you ready to spar?"

"Yes, ebirthil."

She drew Támerlein, placing it effectively in her hands. The speed of her two handed fighting style was remarkably unhindered by the power of each stroke. She was quickly becoming a talented warrior. She attacked first, leaping from her position, yet somehow flipping her body over to aim for his legs. The least protected of his body. The master Rider sidestepped easily and blocked her sword.

"Good power, more speed."

The protégée pulled into a complicated series of strokes that the Rider recognized as Blodhgarm's out of the book fighting style. She often switched her lead foot.

"Good dexterity between your feet, Estheria, but do not forget to mask any deficiency in your right lead foot."

Her right foot as a lead was somehow more forced than her left foot as a lead. Eragon easily picked up on this and attacked while she was adjusting. Estheria was temporarily taken aback a few steps, but she picked herself up and began the onslaught once more. Estheria kept using her right foot as a lead, and she was improving with every step. Her body was flowing much more naturally, more smoothly with her environment.

With Eragon only using a fraction of his power, Estheria could handle herself quite well. However, there were things to be done, many things they needed to cover today. Pushing her inexperience, Eragon easily overpowered her and knocked her sword out of her hand.

"You have improved greatly Estheria. I am quite proud of your progress."

She bowed, "Thank you, ebirthil."

"Estheria, this is our last day until I march for Uru'baen. We have many things to discuss before then. However, I feel both you and Valianas should be here for it. Ah…there they are now."

Sure enough, over the horizon a small emerald dragon and a larger sapphire dragon landed nearby. Valianas bowed to him in the way of dragons before moving next to his Rider.

"Estheria Drottningu, Valianas Bjartskular, there is a very high possibility that Saphira and I may not return from this battle."

"Ebirthil…" But Eragon held up a hand silencing her.

"Our wish is that you both continue your training even with us gone. I realize that is quite difficult to do. The fate of the Riders will depend on you shall we fall and the king does not. If that was to happen, the Riders would never be able to continue any longer, however, we wish that the last Dragon Rider to roam these lands would do so with the pride and honor of the regime that lasted far longer than these harsh times after the Fall. I have some papers that you should read. Should I not return, I would like you to travel to Du Weldonvarden as quickly as possible. There, I have instructed a few elves to give you a package containing more information than perhaps I could ever give you. Use those to finish your training. Any questions?"

Estheria shook her head, Valianas remained silent.

"Very well then. You will stay in Dras Leona until you hear any news of the outcome of the battle. If it is not in our favor, I have ordered the elves to personally come for you to their forests. May the stars watch over you."

The Master Rider began to take off before he was called back.

"Wait, ebirthil!"

He turned slowly around, "Yes Estheria."

"I…thank you ebirthil, and please come back safe. I…we…thank you."

She seemed to be at a loss for words. He chuckled as he walked back to her.

Gently laying a hand on her shoulder, he replied, "We really do appreciate the concern Estheria, do not worry to much for our sake. Stay safe."

Saphira pressed her snout on her forehead, _Hatchling, do not fear. What shall happen, shall happen and that is all you shall be concerned about. Stay safe, Estheria, Valianas. _

They nodded as Eragon swung himself into the saddle and Saphira took off from their position. If Valianas continued to practice flying on his own, he and Estheria could ride together in a week at the most. Saphira had privately shared her feelings on the matter beforehand. They looked at the arrangements being made.

The princess had left earlier that morning to discuss with Lord Fiolr, in detail, about his contribution to the battle for the capital…and his words about her mate. She moved easily through the Elvin camp, everyone bowed to her, even those she considered friends. She stopped to ask where Lord Fiolr was and was pointing to a lavishly decorated window in a barrack close to the gate. Her swift feet carried her up the stairs and to the pompous noble's room. She knocked on the door and waiting for an answer.

Lord Fiolr himself came to answer the summons.

"Drottningu." He bowed deeply before initiating the customary Elvin greeting. She responded in kind, though her features showed none of the sort.

"Lord Fiolr, I have come to discuss an issue that has recently come to my attention."

He seemed to feign confusion, but they both know what blunder of his words she was speaking about.

"I understand your colored opinions on Eragon Shadeslayer. However, I do not condone the obvious insult in front of his student."

"Drottningu, if I may…"

But she held up a hand to silence him.

"I expect you to apologize to him for the utmost disrespect and disregard for his authority and position."

He scoffed at her.

"Drottningu, I understand your attachment to the human Rider. I have heard that many consider him quite attractive. However, rest be assured, he deserves nothing more than what I have dealt him. The fact that I have not moved for him to be banished from the forests as I believe all humans should be for their obvious negligence to Elvin custom and honor is respect enough for that man. He is a human, he is weak."

He seemed to want to say more, but the raging emerald eyes silenced him. Her voice was low, yet her register was fierce. He knew he if uttered a wrong word, her sword would release its wrath on their own accord.

"Lord Fiolr, Eragon Shadeslayer is not a simple human to be banished from the forests. I understand your inability to comprehend the pact of the Riders and their power over the land is somewhat encouraged by the delusion that many elves share your beliefs. However, that is not the case. I see your stupidity has not even been hindered by the fact that many elves have left your fundamental beliefs and sided with the Rider on this matter. I can assure you, Shadeslayer is not at all weak as you say he is. There is not an elf that can dare challenge him and hope to win. Surely, the fact he bested the Red Rider is a testimony to his power. And as far as his disregard for Elvin custom and honor, I would like to point out that he simply ignores your idiotic beliefs and prefers to take your insults with a level head, much more Elvin than your ranting about ideas and beliefs you no longer truly understand. Your greatest mistake in this time, however, is your insult to me, to your Princess and your future Queen that I have mated with him on a fancy only. I may have left you with a warning to hold you tongue if your insult stopped with him and was fueled by your belief that elves are superior than humans, however, this I cannot overlook. Eragon Shadeslayer is your future King and I am your future Queen. For the sake of this battle, I shall allow your presence to be here, however, once this battle is over, you are stripped of your title and honor in the court of Tialdari Hall. You are to remain in your house until time itself comes to an end or you will leave the forests never again to step foot inside the home you feel should be closed to those who have saved you time and again. Prepare for battle."

And she left the former Lord to his own thoughts. The absolute nerve of him to insult both of them like that. How dare he even consider talking like that. She should have had his head, but, that would not be like a true leader. She cursed her title, wishing for once, instinct could rule over. Her anger was stopped, however, when a shadow descended upon her. She looked up to see Saphira hovering over her. Arya waved to them to come down.

"Is everything prepared?"

He leapt off the saddle before she could answer.

"Yes, we leave in an hour, walk for half a day, rest, walk the entire day tomorrow, and then another half day until we reach the city, and then begin the battle in the afternoon."

The Rider nodded.

"You talked with Lord Fiolr, I see."

She raised a nonchalant eyebrow, "He was not at all willing to see his mistake. I stripped him of his title and let him choose between banishment and house arrest."

"Arya…" But she had already cut him off, silencing him on the matter. She would not tolerate any insult to her king.

"Your pupil? How did she take the news?"

He shrugged, "I doubt the responsibility that falls on her after my failure has hit her yet. However, I have not failed yet." He chuckled to himself.

Arya made to move a little leaf from his hair, lingering far more than necessary if she was simply removing the leaf. She curved the long locks of hair around her fingers.

"Shadeslayers, we are leaving soon."

The messenger left them shortly after, obviously not wanting to interrupt their rare public tender moment. However, even that was short lasted, Arya retracted her hand a little while after and graced him with a smile on hers.

Saphira's armor was loaded on a small platoon of horses, but considered she was Saphira, no one minded. The sapphire dragon was their greatest weapon. His armor, on the other hand, was packed away nicely in a sturdy cow hide sack in his room.

"Is there anything you left in the room, Arya?"

She half turned, thinking over what could possibly be left in the room.

"Only the sack I packed last night."

Nodding his understanding, the solemn Rider turned his back on his mate and went to collect their battle gear. It was best if they left personal belongings away from the war. The less they carried with them, the better. If they won, they had all the time in the world. If not, it would be best to leave personal belongings here so the warriors could flee back to something.

Their two sacks lay somewhat near the door. Eragon glanced at their home for five months. It was a cozy place, the fire was low, the curtains drawn, the chairs lush and comfortable. He sighed, he would miss it. Silence clouded the rest of his glance at their home, sometimes, Eragon could not even hear his own breathing. The multiple necklaces and ornaments he had gifted his mate remained in the chest drawer she so carefully placed them in over the months. In this battle, they were more weight than necessary. However, from the midst, the tears he turned into diamonds were missing. Smiling, he realized Arya had taken them with her in some furtive way even he knew not about. But even with the sentimental value, Arya most likely found a way to store energy in those small stones for later use.

Eragon changed his clothes from the training, comfortable wear into the customary Rider gear. His vest was maneuverable under the armor and less restricted on his movements than the regular chain mail. Grabbing the sacks, he locked the door behind him before moving to the outskirts of the city. The majority of the soldiers had already begun their march towards the capital. They were usually young men, neither wives nor children to worry about or even elder men who lost a son in battle, or even boys picking up the sword for the first time.

Elves were mixed in the crowd, but they had left as well. Battle was in their blood, they were respectable warriors who never let emotions hinder their war.

And the dwarves…well, dying in battle was an honor few could match. They left proudly with the knowledge their death would be their salvation.

Only the middle aged men clung to their wives…only they who knew the joys of the warless age, only those who knew the happiness of peace, who knew love and family…who truly knew life lingered in the embrace of their wives or clung too closely to their daughters they loved too dearly or enveloped their son in a rare display of father – son affection. Only they were reluctant to leave.

A small force lifted a sack from his shoulders. His alarm was silenced only for the waft of fresh pinecones radiating in the air. Gently removing the sack from his shoulders, her body took the weight of it on herself. Yet, as always, she showed no sign of discomfort from the extra baggage or obvious disproportion to her own lithe body.

"Iet Shurtugal, we were waiting for you."

He let a small smile through as Nasuada, Orrin, Orik, Islanzadi, Asthraxis, and other second in commands came up behind him. They would travel together, as one unit, as one resistance, as one nation against their common enemy. From the distance, they heard an echoing roar as Valianas made a rare gesture of power. They turned to see the princess of the Water Elves waving after them, a bit of longing in her eyes. Most acknowledged them and turned away, their minds on the dismal task ahead of them, only King Asthraxis and Eragon waved back. A whoosh of wind above them and the momentary loss of sunlight signaled Saphira's entrance to the troupe. She landed gracefully in front of the leaders, choosing to walk with them in such a historical event. Eragon concentrated on some battle movements, repeating them in his head over and over again.

It was not until a familiar black werecat started weaving through his legs did he snap out of his concentration.

_Solembum, what is it? _

_Why must there always be an 'it' when I seek you? _

_Because there is always an 'it' when you seek me. Previous experience supports my statement. _

_And I simply cannot enjoy your company?_

_You do not enjoy the company of many, forgive me if I did not think this was case. _

_Well, there is no need to think otherwise. I do not enjoy your company. _

_Then, to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence? _

_Be careful not to assume anything of the battle when you face the dark tyrant, Rider. He defeated Vrael by his tricks, remember. _

Eragon thanked the werecat for his warning. He always knew more than he let on, but the Rider had enough experience to know that he was not going to get anything more than that out of him.

_Little one, what do you suppose he meant by that? _

_I do not know as of now. However, I am sure we will find out when there is just a little time left for us to fix the problem. That is often the case. _

"Do not dwell on those words iet Shurtugal, as I know you are guilty of doing so before. They will make sense in due time."

His signature grin took over, "Do you have similar experience iet Drottningu?"

"More than you shall ever know."

She thought back to the warning Maud had given her before she, Faolin, and Glenwing left to ferry the egg between the elves and the Varden.

_The princess was mighty angered after her newest conversation with her mother. Not only had the Queen called her 'Arya, daughter of none,' but she also refused to talk to her directly. Instead, one of her peons did the 'laborious' work of talking to those so far beneath her. It was a price to pay for her father's wish, and she would bear it willingly. Not well, no one ever said well, but willingly. _

'_Be careful Drottningu, this journey will be more harmful to you than anyone else.' _

_She left her face carefully blank even though her insides churned with worry. _

'_Have you not heard, Maud? I no longer go by that name.'_

'_Yet that name suits you more than any other I have heard for you.'_

'_Very well, what did you mean by that statement?'_

'_This journey of yours shall leave a scar worse than death for as long as you care to remember.' _

_And just like that the werecat walked away. _

_She thought no more of it for often in the path of avoidance one often meets his or her fate. _

However, she realized she had neglected to see that not avoiding fate will also deal the same cards. And how true it had been, Glenwing and Faolin both seemingly murdered in front of her eyes, and how she suffered at the hands of Durza, and the truth behind Faolin's death…how they all played to scar her beyond what she cared to remember.

A wave of sympathy and love clouded her senses and immediately her discomfort was washed away. Even though far enough from her, deep in conversation with the Water Elvin king about his daughter, her mate took notice of her pain. Mentally or physically, he never ceased to see to her welfare. She resented being pampered, but somehow it was different with her Rider. He pampered her in the name of love, not the name of protection and superiority, as if it was the duty of the male to look after his female. He almost pampered her for himself, so he could feel a wave of satisfaction at her happiness. So he could enjoy her enjoyment. She chuckled to herself, there was no love greater than his, no love more selfless than his.

His scent of fresh ocean breeze grew stronger as he politely excused himself from his conversation about Estheria. She could feel his desire for some physical contact, just a brush of her fingers, something to reassure him she was not a dream. Laughing to herself, she laced her fingers through his as they did many times during their leisure walks through the town. They had often refrained from such affectionate displays in public, but the majority here were men uncomfortable with displaying how much their significant other meant to them instead of gossipy women. Most averted their eyes, carefully, yet successfully avoiding all eye contact. Only Queen Islanzadi looked at their intertwined hands with a small smile while making some offhand comment about something she truly did not care about. Yet, as always, these occurrences remained unnoticed as Eragon's elation coursed through his veins. I

n a furtive movement, he gently stroked her soft hand with his thumb, marveling at the comfort such a small gesture gave to him.

_I love you Arya. I know I do not say it enough. _

Her mock annoyance produced a larger grin on his face. She and he both knew what her answer would be.

_Y__ou do say it enough. And you know it. _

His refusal was still adamant. Rather than continue their age-old argument, Arya simply silenced him.

_I love you Eragon. And do not ever forget it. _

She did not think it possible for such a smile to grow even wider, but it did, taking years off his rapidly aged face. He was, for once, the boy she remembered seeing after he had woken up from slaying her captor. The boy who had foolishly fallen in love with a shattered heart, the boy who foolishly never stopped loving that broken heart until his love picked up every last shard and pieced it back together into the beautiful, pure, and strong heart it was today. The princess leaned in closer for his warmth as a gale of wind howled through the forest next to them.

"You, broken? Arya, nay. Broken means weakening, and you have never failed to be strong. I was broken, broken, I believed, until beyond repair."

"Hush, we serve nothing to dwell on what has happened. Nothing indeed."

He silently gave his agreement before moving on to what was now more important affairs of matter.

"Once you enter the castle through the drainage system, you will be in the western end, closest to the stables. The last time I truly stepped foot into his lair I sensed two presences. One was his, the magic was dark and foreboding, as if the entire castle seeped with evil, the other was as strong as it was misguided. It seemed like free energy in the same concentration, however, I believe that is the eldunari. I dared not seek entrance to that magic hold. No doubt there are enchantments and protection of the highest order blocking any entrance and severe punishment for those who try. They were held in the same area or close to. He would not ever leave the majority of the eldunari away from him for longer than necessary. I believe it is close to his bedchamber or perhaps a few rooms away. But find the bedchamber and Lifaen will be able to pinpoint the exact room they are in."

"And what will you be doing?"

He glanced at Saphira before answering. She was watching carefully for his answer. "Saphira and I shall be dueling the king while you locate the eldunari, whether it be on foot or in the air. Chances are that if you do not send the eldunari away, neither of us will be alive to tell the tale."

_That will not happen, Little one. I shall take him with me if it is the last task I do as a dragon in this world. And you, Little on, you shall be there with me every step of the way. _

_Take care of him Saphira. I worry for his well-being. _

_And we for yours, Little Princess. _

The rest of the journey passed in a comfortable silence. They stopped for dinner a few hours after dusk, by that time the men had lost sight of their companion in front of them. Here and there, fires sprung everywhere while salted meats were being cooked and the burning of meat thickened the air. Only the elves stayed away from that particular brew. Most took to fruits and nuts here and there. The Rider went searching for a few vegetables in the forest nearby, however, he dared not travel too far in with the chance of a surprise attack on the Varden men. He returned with a few and placed them in small pot he borrowed from a traveling cook. Placing his usual spices he loved so much, he handed a carved wooden spoon to Arya before digging in himself.

She loved his cooking. For some reason, his dishes, no matter how their conditions were, tasted better than the dishes of others. Oromis had taught him cooking quite well. A gale of wind silence the crackling of their small fire. He shrugged before huddling next to warm belly of his dragon. That fire was enough to put him into a sweat if she willed. A wing curved over them as Arya finally joined them, nearly lying on top of him as was their customary pose. In her defense, it was the best way to conserve heat in the cold nights of early spring.

_Good night __iet evarínya nuanen, may the stars watch over your dreams. _

_Iet skolir, I need not the stars to watch over me when you are here. _

He smiled, allowing his arms to finally embrace her as he wished to the entire day. Her own hands came up encircling his neck before pulling herself off to gaze at him. Her gaze…as always, was indescribable. It was as if he was the only man in the world. A smirk at the frantic beating of his heart caused even more havoc on his body.

"You know what you do to me, and yet you take advantage of it."

A knowing smile was her only answer. Well, that and a long, languid kiss that ignited more desires in him than he knew possible. All too soon, she pulled away and rested her head over his beating heart, the most soothing sound she knew. His arms tightened around her as she fell asleep. Consciously or subconsciously she did not know, she did realize, however, that, out of their own accord, her hands weaved their way underneath his warm tunic to rest on his furnace like bare skin.

The sun burned the next day a thousand times stronger than he remembered that it ever did. The chill of the night seemed to leave his body like steam leaving tea under the sun. He could slowly feel the chill leave him like a spider leaving a tingly sensation as it crawled up his arm. Even though the men around him broke into an early sweat around mid afternoon, Eragon loved the heat. It was easier to stay cold in the heat than stay warm in the cold. Saphira was up ahead hunting for the day. It was best she eat the day before a battle to give her the maximum energy. Too soon after, she would feel lethargic, and too late after, too tired and hungry. The elves stayed closer together this time around, staying near their leaders in order to go into formation at a second's notice. It was probably unnecessary as the capital was too starved to spare soldiers for a sneak attack against the entire Varden force. What they lacked in skill, they made up for in numbers.

Glancing around his surroundings, the Rider took in the only leader who seemed to hang his head with every step towards the war. He slowly made his way over to see what was bothering him. His water elves needed to be encouraged before battle, as was not obviously not the case.

"King Asthraxis? Is anything the matter?"

The seemingly hard blue green eyes turned softer at the sight of the young master Rider.

"I am not a leader for war. I know not how to fight well or die honorably. I can lead in peace, not in war. In this battle, I fear I will grow weaker and flee."

The Rider sighed, it was good he came to talk to the 'inexperienced' king.

"A few words of advice if I may?"

"Please Shurtugal Eragon, you have proven to be wiser beyond my own years."

"Every leader has faults, there is no doubt. However, you who have lead your people with their utmost faith and respect, have never had to lead your people to battle. You do not know how well of a leader you will be on the battlefield. But I do believe the king who lead his people here, will lead his people successfully even in danger."

"You have more faith in me that I have in myself."

"The funny thing about faith, dear king, is that one can have a boundless amount."

And with that he left the nervous king to contemplate what he said. A lasting wave of affection coursed through him, somehow making the hot sun cold against his skin. Turning to find its source, he saw the most beautiful Elvin princess seeking his eyes as she seemed to be in conversation with her mother. He waited a while until the Elvin royalty caught up with him. She spared him a smile before grasping his arm and pulling him along next to her. Releasing him a few moments later, she surprised him by taking his hand again, a much more intimate gesture than simply escorting her by an arm. Her mother was talking again, remaining dutifully ignorant of their hands intertwining as they were.

"Eragon, when shall Saphira return?"

"Around nighttime, Your Majesty."

"She seems to enjoy the hunt more than other dragons I have met over my years."

"Yes, that she does."

They fell into an easy silence again, their banter reduced to a little more than nothing. His thoughts once again turned to the battle at hand. They seemed to think of little else these past few days.

Uru'baen was not a fortress, the people did not live covered in there. It was an economic and political hubbub, not a military base. Uru'baen never had people hiding in there. Only in total war did the capital get attacked. The militants would not want to fight in the city where their women and children would be vulnerable to the onslaught. That itself would force them out. Galbatorix's mistrust of his commanders after the betrayal of Tabor made him want to send his commanders as far away as possible during such a precarious time. But the king was not an idiot, he knew he had numbers if not the skill of Varden leaders and soldiers. He would press that advantage with formation in an all out battle.

"Will you cease thinking about this, iet Shurtugal? I have yet to hear the soft sounds of my praise at your expense lately."

Her voice was soft as she teased him. He let out a laugh worthy of her attention as he silenced his ever worrying mind.

_And what praise would you like to hear this fine day? _

She smiled at his jesting, _Surprise me Master Rider, surprise me._

_In true love, iet Drottningu, the smallest distance is too great, and the greatest distance can be bridged. _

_Such a romantic mate I have indeed. Yet, this is not praise. _

_If I had a rose for every time I thought you beautiful, my garden would never end. _

_You are getting better dear Rider. _

_The stars in the sky, the moon at night, the sun at midday, and even the ocean during the tide seem dull compared to you, yet I cannot bring myself to see them unbiased without you beside me for even the littlest separation renders my world black and white. _

_Iet liduen Shurtugal, you never cease to amaze me by your words. Just when I think you have thought of all the metaphors, you think of more. _

_Only for you, __iet gedwey __fëon, do my words become poetic and my praises ceaseless. _

"By order of Lady Nasuada, we rest here for the night!"

A guard relayed the message throughout the majority of the encampment until most started unpacking anyway. It was a good place to stop, not too close for the Empire to attack without a fair chase back for them and not too far to tire out the warriors before the battle.

"Set up the tents! We leave them here tomorrow!"

Eragon had already laid the foundation down for their tent. It was customary when attacking that the soldiers sleep in a tent every night until the day before battle. And then, their makeshift tents would be left behind when they rode to battle. If they lost, they would flee back, get what they could and come back. If they won, they need not return for them. Last night was a rare exception. Both the Rider and the princess were too tired to even correctly place their tent. It was a long day starting at dawn for the both of them. And, not to mention, Saphira had not returned from hunting yet.

_Saphira, have you completed your meal? When shall you return? _

_Peace, little one, I shall return. I was merely cleansing myself in the surprisingly cool lake here. I am coming in a half hour. Get some rest, I will join you shortly. _

In all honesty, he was not worried. There was little in these forests that provided a challenge to Saphira. They were all prey. Keeping his breeches on, Eragon pulled his tunic off over his head, leaving his chest wonderfully bare, in Arya's opinion, of course. Laying down on the small cot, he waited until Arya had pulled over, once again, one of his shirts and a pair of soft felt pants. It was her only pair she brought on this trip. Silently waving a hand to silence the candle that shone in the center, his beloved princess finally joined him underneath the thin cover.

Rest was not easy the day before the battle, yet it came, magically induced for the both of them. They could have risked staying awake, soothing each other until weariness took over their bodies. But now was not the time for it. They needed rest, complete rest.


	23. Chapter 48: And so it begins

Chapter 48: And so it begins

The morning came with a swift harshness. Sunlight poured through the holes in the tent.

"WE LEAVE IN THIRTY MINUTES NO MORE!"

The hurried shouts were quickly turning through the campsite. Men and elves donned their armor, horses their plates. Eragon himself pulled himself together. He stared at the mirror in his tent, the one they always brought with them.

_This is it. _He thought to himself. Today would be the day he emerge victorious, _or die trying, _he thought solemnly.

A scuffle behind him told him Arya was going through similar preparations. Battle preparations. Slowly, he slid each piece of fluid metal onto his body, amazed at how familiar it felt even after six months of not donning them. His helmet he carried out by his side. Brisingr was tied to his waist. His face hardened under his scrutiny of it. All this time, he could not see the changes Arya thought so deep in him. But now, now he saw. He did not see himself, not the Eragon he was born as. Not the boy from a farm in Carvahall. Not anything of what he used to be. No…in front of him was a man so chafed by battle the scars of his sights set in the rigid features of his emotionless face. His eyes turned from the chocolate brown of a boy to the hard, icy cold cerulean beacons staring back at him. His hair, ruthlessly disheveled. And his body…the boy no longer resided in it. His body had more scars running from end to end than drops of water in a glass. His body was chiseled, a testament for the hellish torture he went through. No…no longer did Eragon exist, no longer Eragon, Son of None. He was a beast capable of killing, he was a warrior hardened past the point of an icy shard. He was the fire than fueled destruction. He was hatred, malice, and pure, raw anger in his battle form.

"Not so hateful I hope." His cold eyes softened at that voice. That velvet, airy voice of the forest itself. Two small hands slipped under his arms, encircling his stomach to rest on his chest. Only moments later did he feel her weight pressed against his back, the soft cheek of her resting on his left shoulder blade, turning away from entrance of the tent, away from the war, away from duty, if only momentarily.

He turned in her embrace, drawing her ever closer. For him, or for her, he did not know. However, he was so locked in the comfort she provided him that he could not break free, not that he ever wanted to. He looked down at the mass of raven black hair buried under his shoulder. Ever so lightly, he tipped her chin up, forcing her emerald orbs to look at him, forcing the warrior in him back into the hellish depths he arose from. She seemed confused at his hesitance to close that distance they had an endless number of times before. But even that was wiped away as slowly he descended down upon her.

His lips moved fervently against hers, the last kiss in private before they marched to battle, yet neither was taking control. Instead, they moved in perfect harmony with one another. He bit at her lower lip, pulling it away slightly before returning his savory exploration again. Grazing his tongue against her lips, he begged for entrance, again, not for long though. He did his usual looking for new crevices, but he never found any. However, she did not like to keep him unoccupied there for long. Her own tongue sought his in a slow dance, engaging his pleasure sensors slowly. Her fingers wove their way through his hair, fixing upon a few places, brutally pulling his back and forth against her mouth. He was not so rough with her. His explorative hands skimmed over her body, marveling at her strength for the thousandth time before settling to caress her hair, running his hands through the strands he was convinced were silk.

And all too soon they broke apart for air. It seemed secondary to their desires, but somehow it made its presence made. She pulled him into a strong embrace.

"You must return alive Eragon. I expect no less from you."

She bit the words in the air, a ferocity foreign to even a tiger stalking its prey. She moved to pull away, but he caught her hand, holding her in place. A tender kiss, one opposite to their deep exploration, greeted her.

"I love you Arya Drottningu. And you must return to me for I cannot live in a world without you."

Her agreement mimicked his silent one. They walked out of the tents, surprisingly refreshed.

"Arya, keep this with you."

He held out an emerald orb from his Belt of Beloth the Wise.

She shook her head, but he insisted, "I still have Aren and Glaedr-ebirthil. You have not stored much energy anywhere."

Reluctantly, she nodded to him. Honestly, if she would accept, he would have given her the belt, but she would never have agreed to such 'preposterous' conditions in this battle.

"Shadeslayer? Shall we put the armor on Saphira?"

He looked at the elves before shaking his head.

"Nay, I shall do it today. Thank for you help in the war."

"It is our pleasure, Shadeslayer."

Meticulously, Eragon picked up each plate of metal and attached in its respective parts. A line of metal lined Saphira's wings, it was light as to not disrupt her flying, but the spikes on end made sure she had the advantage in a close battle. The soft underside of her belly and her sternum were protected by the biggest pieces, yet still lighter than the old armor. It was a flexible set of dark blue, nearly black armor, one that allowed for maximum movement and protection. The only part of her body left open were the spikes running down her the back of her neck and those at the end of her tail made for crushing and smashing. Both her jaw and the top of her head were protected, but her wings were left bare for movement. That was necessary. That last piece had fit in its place and Eragon stepped back to marvel at the beauty of his dragon.

_Saphira, you are as fearsome as the sun itself. _

_Thank you, Little one. Now let us be off. We have an hour's journey to complete. _

He carefully slipped into the saddle, centering himself for the battle about to come. Glancing one last time at Arya, he smiled at her. A pained one, one that hated their distancing. She let a ghost of a smile go through before her own battle face was set. She was to lead her own company of elves next to her mother. Her second in command was Lifaen. She ran her hand over the small pouch. If she knew her mate at all, and she did, then there would be a massive amount of energy contained in there. A quick check confirmed her belief. Eragon looked down at the vast Varden army from Saphira.

The old, disengaged, traveling band of soldiers disappeared. Everyone had their finest armor, their best swords and bows clung on to them. Even the previous gait of friends had turned into a rhythm with constant beats. They were truly a sight to behold. They, traveling together, marched in sync with one another.

This! This was what an army should be!

Fixing his helmet in place, Eragon and Saphira flew up to the front line and hovered above the head armies. A company of men lead by General Halton – by far the most experienced men there were. Commander Alinor's elves and General Huvin's dwarves made up the entire front line. In between were the Urgals led by Nar Garzvhog. He barked orders to his many second – in – commands. But even they were synchronized. Saphira let out a hiss drawing the Rider's attention away.

_He is watching, Eragon. _

Merging their sights together, Eragon saw what she was talking about. Sure enough, sitting on the top of the tallest tower of the castle was Shruikan curved around the brick layover. His nails were digging in, his face in a gruesome snarl, fire burning in his mouth, as if waiting to release itself. His eyes were those of utter hatred, anger burning consistently in their outreach.

_The gates are opening, Eragon. The soldiers are coming out as you expected._

_Good, good. _

Once the Empire soldiers began filing out the large stone doors, Saphira let out a piercing roar.

_Eragon, is something wrong? _

The voice filled with concern flowed easily through his mind, giving the soothing tone only she could.

_Nay, iet Drottningu, nothing is wrong. They are coming outside the city walls as expected. We see Shruikan from here, that is all. _

Silence greeted his link. He was about to say something before she replied.

_Be careful. _

_You as well. _

As if on cue, the black dragon started circling the city, like a vulture over a battlefield. He seemed like the devil incarnate in that pose. Eragon shuddered in response.

_No need to fear, Little one. We are together and more powerful than ever._

A wave of courage swept through his mind, erasing any doubts of their success.

_Thank you, Saphira. _

The two armies came within fifty yards of each other, standing silently for the first move. These were not soldiers without pain, their eyes held fear in them. Obviously, the Empire could not spare enough magicians or they were not strong enough to complete the process to the entire army and still have Alagaesia continue with a population of humans. Saphira landed in front of the Varden army.

_Are you ready to inspire them today? Fate knows they need it more than ever. _

He nodded before he began.

"Warriors of the Varden! Today is your last day you must prove your mettle! In the future, you may look upon this day fondly as you remember your victory in the enemy territory! Or you may hate the very day this sun rose! But I promise you, we will fight! We will fight so that this day, this day, will be one where you can hold you head high and announce to the world that you fought against a tyrant! This day will be your pride! This day will be your fight! This day is your chance to prove to the world that there is a better world! This is our world!"

His last words erupted cheers deafening the ears of their enemies. Dismounting Saphira, Eragon walked over to his cousin. It may well be the last he ever talked to him.

"Roran, be careful brother."

The bear of a man pulled his into a bone crushing hug, uncaring of their momentary weakness.

"You too, brother."

He made his way over to the elves, particularly one elf maiden staring at him intently. He stood in front of her, his head bowed, her hands in his, uncaring at the intrusive eyes around them.

"Perhaps I was mistaken, iet liduen Shurtugal."

He raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"I see your poetic words are not always about me."

Eragon shook his head, "Yet you are always the inspiration."

She closed the distance between them, sharing a chaste kiss in the middle of the battlefield.

"Be careful, Eragon. I have lost many, I cannot lose you now. Not after this long."

"Nor can I."

An enemy bugle sounded in the distance. A cry of rage erupted from their enemy as them began charging forward like a bull after a red cloth.

"And so it begins."

Eragon raced up to Saphira, quickly jumping into her saddle as she took off. The arrows were of little consequence. She had the necessary wards to keep them away. One burst of flames from her mouth split the entire Empire army in two. Another burst of flames, and the enemy line had scattered under her wrath. Her claws ripped through flesh, sending them flying, her jaw snapped the necks of Empire men. But Eragon was watching the black dragon in the sky. He turned from a vulture circling its prey to a hawk, finding its new kill.

_Saphira! He is coming! We must go! _

_Alright. _

One last burst of flames sent a company of warriors up in flames. Saphira sped towards the black target. Just as he opened his mouth to send those flames hurtling towards them, Saphira dived under, flipping herself underneath the massive dragon and raked her claws across the armor. Her attempt was successful – her claws dug in so deep the armor was completely left open with gashes as long as Shruikan himself. The black Rider screamed in fury. And for the first time, Eragon saw his opponent. His entire being was shrouded in black, but not in mourning, as if he was the bringer of death himself. His sword was raised like someone would raise a knife, for stabbing, the most painful death there could be. Galbatorix did not seem keen on using much magic at the beginning. So be it, there was still time in their duel.

_Eragon, we are entering the castle as you have engaged him in a duel. _

_Good, I shall see you later Arya Drottningu. Be careful. _

_I love you, Eragon. _

_As I love you. _

The princess left his mind cold, empty, dreary, and focused. He shut his mind out to unknown presences. The only people who could contact him were the elves and the Du Vrangr Gata.

_Saphira, go to the right of Shruikan when he attacks you next, I shall see if I can get a hit on Galbatorix. _

Shruikan roared from above, signaling his rage at his destroyed armor.

_Why is Galbatorix not doing anything to fix the armor? Surely he can. _

_I do not know Saphira. Perhaps he does not truly care for Shruikan. _

Saphira answered in her own rage. She sped to the right as Eragon drew his sword. Saphira flew dangerous close to Galbatorix, and the man turned in their direction. But he was too late to react properly. Eragon's sword hit the tyrant's arm, coating his sword with blood. He was saved by his narrow movement away in fear of the young master Rider.

_From underneath now, Saphira. Attack the belly this time. I shall fend off any fire from Shruikan. _

The blue dragoness dove shortly underneath before raging up in full throttle at the exposed belly. In a lame attempt to protect himself, Shruikan curved his long neck around and unleashed a fire so great it would have burned the skin right off of the Rider.

"Adurna!"

Water formed in the air surrounding them, dousing the flames, rendering them mute. Pressing his advantage, Eragon plunged Brisingr through the water, blinding Shruikan in one eye. He would have continued, but Saphira had already raked her talons across the soft belly once more. Blood was pouring out from every which way from the old dragon. Eragon almost felt pity for him. And Galbatorix! That bastard was not even healing his own dragon.

_Hatchlings…I am nearing my end. _

A presence sought entrance to their mind.

_Shruikan? _

_Yes, who else did you expect it to be? _

_What is it? We do not have time to talk with the enemy. If you cannot fight, send your Rider to the ground and we shall fight there. _

The dragon chuckled half heartedly through their temporary link.

_This is not my Rider, hatchlings. This is some man that tyrant forced on my back to play him while he guarded the castle. _

Horror filled Eragon. Galbatorix was still inside…and Arya had already entered.

_Barzul! _

_You see hatchlings. He does not want to kill you. He wants you to join him. He has your elf, Rider Eragon. I am falling…fast. _

_Shruikan, we are sorry for your plight. _

_My plight? I was a free dragon bound by dark magic. I feel for those who have passed with their companions, yet stay bound by evil. I have no companion. I was born alone, I shall die along. I thank you, hatchlings, you have freed me with my own death. _

His last words caused him to fall to the ground with a deafening thud. The man atop him was crushed underneath the massive black dragon. He would get a proper funeral, but not before Arya was safe. Saphira landed on the ground near the castle.

_Islanzadi Drottning! Can you hear me? _

_By the fates! What is it Eragon? _

_Shruikan is dead. Galbatorix still lives. Continue the battle, I shall seek him out. _

_Yes, I shall relay the message. _

He closed that link before leaping through the same entrance Arya had entered through.

_Saphira! Tear open the ceilings so nothing caves inward. I need you there once I find him. _

He raced through the castle wall, listening for any sign of Arya. A hand grabbed his leg, causing him to stumble.

"Nari! What happened?"

The elf reached out his arm.

"He ambushed us here, Shadeslayer. He easily disposed of a few, Celdin and Lifaen have fallen. We three stayed behind to prevent him from going any further. Tydrenea, Raerieth, Vanir, Blodhgarm, Arya Drottningu…" he coughed up blood, "they all went ahead. We tried to stop him, we tried to. But we were not strong enough."

"Do not worry, I shall call the healers."

"Nay!" More blood spewed from his mouth as he hung on to his life by a thread, "There is no time! No time! It is enough, Shadeslayer, that I died in the arms of the first Rider of the new Age."

"No! Nari! I shall call them!"

He shook his head, "Leave me, he may have Drottningu."

_Eragon! Go, you cannot save him now!_

The Rider left the elf there, but not before calling some of his comrades to come find him. He raced up the stairs of the castle, the map reeling through his brain.

_Arya! Can you hear me?_

A voice of beauty coursed through her veins. Her companions lay dead or dying around her. Tydrenea lay bloodied, sprawled on the ground.

"It is a pity…she was a pretty one too."

That shameful disgusting voice sounded in her ears. It was a drawl of a monster, and how she hated it.

_He is here, Eragon. _

"But you are far more beautiful, Arya of the forest. I can see why he fell for you."

His disgusting praise fell upon nearly deaf ears. She was waiting for a chance to attack, she was not so helpless. Her mind stayed wonderfully closed off to him, her defenses impeccable. Blodhgarm lay incapacitated towards the window, he was electrocuted till he fell unconscious. Raerieth was bound against her will. She was continuously fighting the possession, but she could not break lose. Even she was losing her will. And Vanir…he faced the worst of all. Galbatorix aimed an entire quiver filled with arrows at his body and ruthlessly let them hit. The elf lay barely alive with nearly a dozen barbed arrows embedded in his torso.

"But what I do not understand, is why you fell for him. He is but a farmboy. An uneducated fool with a dragon who fell for innocence. Nay, dear Arya, you need a man. You need someone like me."

He leaned closer to her bound body, but she had already undone the magic blocking them seconds ago with the energy she had stored. She was not to be meddled with.

"He is more of a man than you shall ever be."

Her fierce declaration was accompanied with a short kick in the legs, rendering him to the floor. Without a second thought, she attacked his mind with her icy sharp shards hoping for a temporary lax in his defense with the distractions. She pulled out her grandfather's sword, the etching gleaming in the sun and brought it down. A large clang showed Galbatorix drawing his own sword to block her.

"You ungrateful wench! I thought of making you my queen! The father of my children! The mare for my brood!"

He stuck a hand out to catch her, but she flipped away just in time.

He laughed evilly, "But I suppose raping you in the dungeons will have to do."

The king sliced at her legs, but she easily sidestepped away. Trying to attack, she was once again blocked by that black hunk of metal.

"I grow tired of your games! Where is your Rider? I know he entered the castle!"

His leg came in contact with her stomach, sending her reeling back, slamming against a wall. He was about to slice her head off, when a shout came from the stairwell.

"Kvekyva!"

A flash of lightning hit the tyrant's arm. He let out a surprised shock, but smirked in his unhealthy, arrogant manner.

"Ah! Are you here to finally fight me? Or run away again? Where is Saphira? I shall have Shruikan chase her to the end of her days."

Eragon's face was etched in disgust, "He is dead, you bastard." T

he Rider took in his surroundings. Arya was alive. Her injuries…he knew not how extensive. The others were severely injured and Tydrenea…_damn him, _she lay dead, a look of defiance etched in her features. And before him stood the man he hated. His hair was long and oily, as if he had better things to do than keep it kempt. It fell disgustingly around his face, the orange red clumps sticking together. His eyes were a malicious black, a cold, hatred black. They held fury and evil to their very core. And his he was a mountain of a man. Far larger than Eragon, and even ran a close second to a Kull without the height. His long black sword seemed to be twice the length of Brisingr, but he knew it was an illusion because of the man wielding it. A large sword seemed larger with the man using it.

The king's face fell, "Ah…well, that complicates things."

He glanced around coolly, "But not to worry."

Wordlessly, he picked up Arya's injured body and slammed against a wall eliciting a scream of pain from her.

"Your fight is with me, Galbatorix!"

"So is yours. But you sent them."

"I am tired of this, King." He spat the words at him, "You will not kill me, but do not get me wrong, I shall kill you the first chance I get."

A cruel laugh echoed through the halls. "Here is your chance, Farmboy! Take it."

The king plunged at him, his sword coming down a ferocity not many knew of. Barely blocking the sword, Eragon raised Brisingr above his head. But the damage had already been done, the Rider sank a few inches into the stone floor, denting it permanently. Without a chance to recover, he felt a sharp black shard attempt to pierce his mental defenses.

_Eragon! Concentrate and I shall keep him out for you. _ _Thank you, Saphira. _

But he did not have to pay a proper one. He quickly redid his defenses while Saphira strengthened them with her own mind. In a move worthy of elves, he managed to come out from his lock and flipped over the king, attacking him from behind again. Yet, he had spun around quicker than he expected and began his series of attacks. Sighting a good time, he plunged his sword forward in an unexpected maneuver and attacked the king mentally. But his defenses were also impeccable, no doubt because of the eldunari to support his cause. Eragon held his own against the king, but neither was playing at their full potential.

Finally, Galbatorix began gaining on him. His palm was shimmering, meaning he was using magic…most likely fueled by the eldunari. He was reaching his limit as a human, but his beginning as a Rider. A slash of his black blade sliced through his armor. He let out a grunt of pain as blood trickled through the greyish metal. His chest was nearly laid open even with his superior armor. Trying in vain to get his feet back in position, he narrowly missed a slice to his neck. A long gash remained from the base of his collarbone to his eyes. He pushed away and separated himself even further. Eragon had no choice any longer. Drawing upon his Grey Folk power, he unleashed his sword with the little space he created for himself.

"Eldrvarya du solus, Könungr abr brisingr!"

The blue flames erupted from the hilt as it grew into a double edged sword. Flames covered every inch of the blade, but they only looked ominous to his enemy. The eyes of his nemesis widen in shock, but he recovered quickly to attack again. Their blades parried each other's again. Galbatorix brought his crashing down, destroying the integrity of his floor. Eragon rolled away and sliced his ankles. Blood erupted from the wound, but the dark tyrant recovered quickly.

"Brisingr!"

The cry of fire from his enemy barely registered in his mind.

_Eragon! _

Saphira's attention to his battle while she worked the roof was commendable. Barely in time, he yelled "Adurna!" to block his spell. But he was quicker again, shouting, "Kvekyva!" and trying to electrocute the Rider. Eragon jumped backwards as purple flashes erupted over the water. He flipped over the king and attacked from his height. The force was enough to bring him to his knees. One edge of his sword blocked the black demon's tool well. Realizing his advantage, Eragon rotated the blade so the other edge came to cut his throat. But he was too late.

Instead of the inch long cut he anticipated, a long gash from the base of his throat to his chin formed. Even he had sidestepped that. He spun to different sides, letting his released sword burn more than usual. Blue flames emerged from all sides of their battle as Eragon spun it around its hilt in a blocking stance. Once again his mind was under onslaught, but Saphira held his defenses tight as she tore away at the tower walls.

They were on equal ground again. Galbatorix could not utilize all the power in the eldunari at once, or else he would be overwhelmed and destroyed. Instead, he took the maximum increments at a time, and Eragon could match that power, for how long he did not know. He was using both his power as a Grey Folk and his energy in the Belt of Beloth the Wise. They looked like two master Riders battling each other to bystanders. But Arya was hardly that. She had a few broken bones, but that could be fixed. As silently as she could, the princess drew energy from the emerald orb and healed herself as she needed to move. Waiting for the opportune time, Arya made sure the king's back was turned to her when she disappeared. She had to find the eldunari. Cloaking herself against the shade of the drapes in the room, she disappeared to find the source once again.

The loud clangs of metal ensured Galbatorix had no knowledge of her departure, and her companions would not tell him about it. A few soldiers ran in the castle, but they were sent to the afterlife with a quick spell. Finally, the power of magic coursed well in the room a few feet ahead of her. The door seemed to be protected by magical barriers. But not to worry, she did have a Rider's sword.

Plunging it into the magical wall, it cracked before breaking into pieces and evaporating away. She pushed the door open. Galbatorix seemed to know the moment Arya had broken in, but a deafening slam of the door told her Eragon had sealed him in there, leaving her free to do what she needed to.

And there they were, hundreds of gem like orbs placed neatly in a box. She did not have the time to celebrate her victory. As quickly as she could, she uttered the spell to send them as far away as Crags. A blast of green light filled the room and they were gone. A smile touched the princess's lips before she fell unconscious.

A scream came from the neighboring room. Eragon had seemingly gained speed. But it was not so, Galbatorix had simply slowed down. The Rider let the door open for her to come back, but she was nowhere to be found. She did it…she completed the task for him, but she did not come back. He pushed those thoughts out of his mind.

Eragon pressed his advantage even further. He sent his enemy reeling backwards on the ground. His own fiery shard attacked the king's mind, shattering through his now weak defenses. Holding up his hand, he tried to utter "Jierda!," but his hand had been sliced off by the Rider before he could release any magic. Eragon kicked out his legs from underneath him, throwing him to the floor. The king realized his power was lost and screamed in agony, backing up against the wall like the powerless tyrant he truly was.

"Galbatorix, you will die like the dog you are."

A slice of his released sword cleaved the king's head from his body. Instantly the magic binding Raerieth stopped. Saphira took the ceiling off to the tower just in time. He pulled some quick commands, ordering the blonde elf to get Blodhgarm and Vanir to safety and to the healers.

_Islanzadi Drottning! The king is dead. The war is over. _

Saphira took the tyrant's head in her mouth and dropped over the battle as proof. Most of the Empire soldiers dropped their weapons and ran or simply dropped their weapons in surrender. She landed near the medical tent while two elves ushered the injured leaders there.

_Thank you, Eragon – finarel. _

_I must find Arya, Drottning. _

Fear seemed to rise in her like a tornado in the Hadarac Desert, but he closed the link by then.

"Raerieth, go down to Nari, he was injured. I sent a medical unit for him, but I do not know if he made it. And where is Lord Däthedr?"

"He fell trying to protect one of his men. I do not know if he is alive, but he did not come with us."

Eragon nodded his understanding, "Go! I need to find Arya."

Raerieth took off to the stairs with the Elvin speed he knew so well. Bursting through doors, he set off his mission to find his mate. He nearly gave up until a door lay ajar a few feet away from him. He opened, hesitant to occupiers. And sure enough, Arya lay unconscious on the ground, incoherent, but alive.

Forgetting their position, Eragon immediately took her into his arms before pouring the remaining energy in the emerald to her. She was spurred awake.

"Eragon…."

He hushed her, "You are safe, he is gone, Arya. You are safe again."

Picking her up in his tired arms, he returned down the stairs the way he came. His chest was burning with pain, but he paid no attention. Instead, he drew even more energy from his orbs, pulling out every last bit to stay conscious. The castle was unoccupied, only Saphira waited for him at the base. All the other elves had gone back to the medical tent. He lifted Arya into the saddle, uncaring for the blood he lost suffering many cuts through his torso at the king's hand.

_Eragon! Do not lose consciousness now! _

He smiled at his dragon's plea before narrowly slipping out of his saddle as she landed near the tent. Cries and praises for them hit deaf ears, only Angela cried out in her voice to reason to get them medical attention.


	24. Chapter 49: Peace should be forever

Chapter 49: Peace should be forever

His sight was clouded by a white light. He almost thought he was dead, but then he saw the white tent and a rather tired Forest Elvin princess laying down on his bed. He groaned as he tried to get up, but a particularly long slash across his chest proved otherwise impossible.

"Do not move."

He was rendered still as she took a cloth of warm water and slowly laid it over the bruised and cut skin. He stopped her hand and smiled.

It was done. Pure elation swept through him as the events of yesterday ran through his mind. No longer did he have to save the world…he was alive, Saphira was alive, and Arya…she was better than alive. She rested her hand on his sternum before meeting her gaze with his. Laughing, she captured his lips with hers. Before long, his playfulness got the better of him and he pulled her onto the bed with him, kissing her even deeper.

"Ouch!" Her elbow had collided with that bruise and Arya pulled away.

"I told you not to distress him further, _Princess_ Arya!" That very same princess rolled her eyes in response. "What unladylike behavior from the Elvin Princess!"

"Oh hush Angela, as if you actually care about that."

The witch shrugged before shooing her off the bed and changing the bandages. Most of the others were healed, well, except for Vanir who still lay in the healing sleep in the bed next to him. Blodhgarm was advised to take some more rest until his heart started beating rhythmically for an extended period of time. That electrical shock took more out of him than he realized.

"I…we own you a lot Eragon Shadeslayer."

Angela's voice turned softer as she redid the bandages with a care he had never before seen in her. He stopped the witch's hand and smiled at her.

"There was never any other choice."

Lifting himself out of bed, he braced himself against his mate. Surprisingly, he did not sag against her, instead he curved an arm around her shoulders for support and walked out of the tent. Most of the Varden remained on the fields. Slowly, they made their way into the castle for more rest, but many were on the fields.

Saphira bounded towards him, nuzzling him before standing back.

_We did it, Little one! We did it! _

He laughed freely for the first time, in seemed, in years. Throwing his arms around Saphira's neck, he hugged her. Arya let him go, smiling, but she too was pulled in as Saphira wrapped her wings around them both.

_We did it. We all did it. _

Cheers erupted around the campsite as people noticed their Rider was up and about. Many leaders shared hugs or a handshake. Islanzadi kissed him on the cheek and congratulated him. Nasuada's absence did not faze him, she must have been inside the city with her own soldiers delegating the people. Däthedr gave him a rare smile. He was moving around with a sickly look on his face, no imperfections marring his body, but evidence of blood loss was visible.

"Ebirthil! Ebirthil!"

Eragon's surprised face turned toward his young charge before pushing thoughts of her absence to the back of his mind. He looked up in confusion.

_I sent for her, Little one. Her training must be completed after all. _

Estheria had a little trouble stopping her swift Elvin feet. It seemed she discovered the joys of running on land. But nevertheless, Eragon caught her before she went flying with him.

"Estheria, it is good to see you again."

She hugged him tightly before stepping back.

"I am sorry, ebirthil. But it is good to see you again!"

Her face was slightly flushed with embarrassment, but not as red as it would be when Valianas came flying through the air. He had not yet had control of a tight landing and bounded right into his Rider.

The encampment laughed at their antics, but Eragon pulled his young charge up.

"It is quite alright, Estheria. Get some rest and see your father."

"I already did, ebirthil!"

"Oh, good then. Get some rest or help healing some of the soldiers."

"Yes, ebirthil! But I have a request."

Eragon leaned onto Arya a bit more, "You are overdoing yourself, Eragon. You need more rest." He nodded before placing a kiss on her forehead and turned towards Estheria.

"What is it, Estheria?"

"Where is Blodhgarm?"

Eragon raised his eyebrows.

"Blodhgarm-elda, I mean." She quickly corrected herself under her master's gaze.

"He is in that tent to the left."

Hurrying off, Estheria forgot to even say good-bye to her masters. But he merely laughed at her eagerness and moved on in the encampment. He had to visit his cousin more than anyone else. He had to know if he was alright.

The sight of a large man with shaggier hair and bread that had not been shaved in a few days caught his eye. He had his arm in a sling and a bandage around his head with a little blood showing through. His leg was bandaged a bit as well, causing him to limp here and there. However, even his injuries could not keep him from enveloping his cousin in his usual bear hug.

"Ouch! Roran, you arm is pressing against my chest."

He reluctantly released him before getting a good look at the bruise that extended down over his heart.

"Got yourself a mighty one there, huh?"

Eragon nodded and chuckled. It was customary when they were younger to compare injuries they had gotten and see who had the worst. The Rider usually won because of hunting.

Roran smiled before turning to Arya.

"I know there are a lot of more important things to do right now, but…"

Arya smiled at his unasked question, "Katrina and your daughter will be here in two days time. They are traveling by the river and then by horse to the capital. By then we should have the city occupied with the Varden and the war officially declared as over. There will be Empire sympathizers in the castle walls, so we are not venturing in there for now. But we have sent in groups of warriors with Nasuada's mandate around the city."

His eyes seemed to fill with tears, "Thank you…I do not know what if I can stay too long without them."

"Roran, take Snowfire and go to the river. You have nothing to fear now with traveling alone. It will take a day's ride to go there, and a day's boat ride to arrive at that point. Go meet her."

A smile broke out in his face. "Yes, yes I think I will do that." He left immediately to put some things for the short journey together, but his cousin had already left.

"Eragon…" Arya's voice had a warning tone, "you need to rest."

His weight on her was becoming more and more prominent and although she did not mind, it was best if he rested.

Their tent had yet to be taken down and so he slipped inside and laid himself on the comfortable cot. A creek in the cot signaled that his mate slipped herself underneath the thin blanket as well. He glanced at her form. Her head was propped up on her elbow as she gazed down at him. The back of his hand repeatedly stroked her cheek in a soothing movement as he stared up at her.

"I am sorry about Tydrenea. I saw her body when I came."

She closed her eyes as a few tears leaked out. They were soon brushed away though, leaving no evidence of ever marring her features.

"She died honorably. We knew we would lose someone."

"Nari? Did he make it?"

"He was alive when they got to him, he is still in critical condition. We will not know until later. He lost much blood, his brain could have been permanently damaged. Lifaen and Celdin were dead within seconds however."

He looked away and withdrew his hand.

"Arya…I am sorry. I should have known he would never have left the castle. Solembum told me never to assume anything, and I assumed it was him on Shruikan. I am so sorry."

"Hush, Eragon. It was not your fault. It was never your fault. You could not have known at all. And Shruikan had to be dealt with anyway. Those that died sacrificed themselves for a worthy cause. The king is dead…that damned tyrant is dead because of you."

The Rider shook his head, "He is dead because of you. You sent his power away, I merely finished the job."

She gave a ghost of a smile to him before sitting herself up at the edge of the bed and looking away. These next words would pain him the most. She had asked no one to mention it when they congratulated him. She knew they were close in each other's hearts.

"Eragon, Nasuada…"

He frowned, "Nasuada what?" A hint of worry crept into his tone, but it did not take long to piece together the images from Arya's memories running through her head.

"She was poisoned from one of the Empire's magicians. Even…even if we find the antidote now, she will die. It has progressed far too much."

"Where is she now?" His voice shook considerably. Not many events had that drastic of an effect, but this, this did it.

"Her red tent, where it was yesterday. A few healers are with her. Angela usually is always there."

"I must go to her."

"You also must rest, Eragon."

He shook his head, "There may not be enough time, Arya, we must go."

She nodded her understanding before helping him up once again. He pulled his purple tunic she had bought him from the sack and shrugged it over his bandaged body. Making their way to her tent, they joined Saphira who poked her head through the window. The dark skinned leader lay on the bed, her body shook with little coughs here and there. She was feverish, and they were working hard to keep her cool.

The Rider immediately made his way over to her side.

"Nasuada…"

She opened her eyes as he took a seat next to her. Arya had gone to the other side of the bed. The leader of the Varden took his hand in hers, squeezing it tightly with a small smile.

"We…k-knew this would happen, Eragon. I just thought it would be quicker than this."

She coughed a little more, her throat unreasonably dry. Arya took her other hand in hers, covering it sympathetically.

"I am happy, though. The war is won, and we all grateful for his death, my dear brother. However, my time here is short, I cannot wait to be reunited with my people, with my father and mother…with Murtagh. He is waiting, I know."

A tear leaked through Eragon's eyes. Only Nasuada could stay strong in her death.

"I have orders for the Varden. Roran shall succeed me. He has the blood of the kings of old. Where is he?"

"He just left to the river to see his wife and daughter."

"Good, then he shall have no choice but to accept as I will be long, long gone by then."

She burst into another fit of coughs.

"Nasuada…" But his voice was silenced quickly.

"My time is coming, my dear friends. I can see my vision darkening, yet I am blinded by light. Oh..oh I see them, Eragon. Can you not see them?"

"Nasuada, there has to be some other way." He pleaded with her to will herself alive, pleaded with her to fight death. He was close to tears watching his friend, his companion, his honorary sister die in front of his eyes. For the love of fate, he was the last descendent of the Grey Folk, the Master Rider of Alagaesia, and still…still he was helpless against fate and its cruel games of life and death.

Her eyes widened in glee as she neared her end. Eragon could almost see her deceased family reflected in her eyes, he could almost see his brother reflected in her eyes.

"I am glad to have known you in my last days. I am proud to call all of you friends."

_And we are proud to call you a friend as well, Lady of the Night. _

Saphira's saddened words were the last echoing through the Varden leader as she closed her eyes for the last time. Her hand went limp in his hands and soon the only support they had were his own muscles lifting her up. He bowed his head and wept at her passing, the tears flowed easily as his body shuddered in sorrow. Eragon rarely cried, even at losses like these, somehow, he could not control himself here. A comforting arm drew him towards his mate, and he buried his tear – stricken face in her neck.

But soon, even she was clinging to him for comfort, the loss of a friend that great denting even her hardened heart.

Saphira roared like the true dragon she was in honor of her lost companion in war.

A messenger entered the room, seemingly to summon the Rider to the council.

"Lady Nasuada?"

He inquired for her.

"She…she is dead," came the swift reply of the grieving Rider.

"I see." His voice was saddened as well. She was a good leader and loved by many people. Even those far beneath her status as a leader, she respected and, in turn, had their respect.

"Shadeslayer, I have her last decree. She asked me to read it to you and before the council later tonight should she pass before that."

"Go ahead." His voice choked as he ordered the young boy.

"I, Nasuada, leader of the Varden by popular vote, hereby declare that in the event of my premature death as leader of the Varden, Roran Stronghammer shall rule the Varden and then shall take my position as King of Alagaesia as is his right for he is the last remaining descendent of the old Kings of Palancar Valley. I shall be buried next to my father, Ajihad, in my home of sixteen years in the Dwarven Fortress of Farthen Dur. My personal treasury shall be placed in the Treasury of the nation of Alagaesia, as will the Treasury of the Varden. My personal items shall be distributed to those families in need as the new king of Alagaesia sees fit. My armor and sword shall be placed next to my father's for his tribute. The painting in my room, however, shall be given to Eragon and Arya Shadeslayer for their own personal enjoyment."

They looked up startled at those final words.

"I am told, sir, that the painting is the one next to her bed."

"Thank you, you have delivered it well. Please come at half past five to the war council tent to once again deliver the message."

He nodded and exited.

The Rider shared a forlorn glance at his mate before walking around the other side to look at this painting. He pulled the large frame out and carefully inspected it.

No wonder she had asked him to keep it. It was no painting, but a fairth of Murtagh and Thorn. Their features were impeccable. They were riding in battle, the sun in their eyes. A fierceness he had thought lost etched in their features.

"How did she get this?"

"Look at the inscription on the bottom."

It was written in the Ancient Language and in the unmistakable scratchy writing of his half – brother as opposed to his elegant hand.

_For the love of my life, Lady Nasuada. May this be a testament for our love in this world and our life together in the after life. I shall await the day you join me. May this projection of me in your eyes never cease to remind you that you indeed saved this broken man with your love. _

A fresh wave of tears greeted Arya's eyes.

"Anyone else who had this might think wrongly of Nasuada. That shall never happen."

Arya sent her agreement before placing the painting inside the cloth covering it.

Word had gotten around quickly of Nasuada's death, most of the encampment was in uproar, but most were rendered solemn at the passing. The elves who were killed were taken back to Ellesmera and their bodies handed over to their families who took care of their funeral arrangements in small, private affairs. Queen Islanzadi and Arya both returned to the forests, taking the elves with them. They had much to discuss, and much to tell their people.

Although Eragon and Saphira both hated the separation, he knew it was for the best for he had to take care of the business in the capital. The leaders had moved in place and Roran was crowned King, Katrina was Queen a few days later. His first decree was to declare it illegal for an immortal ruler to rule over a mortal population. The Empire sympathizers had yet to be wooed, but there was still time.

A few weeks later, Arya and Islanzadi returned. King Orik, Nar Garzvhog, King Orrin, King Asthraxis, Estheria, Eragon, and Saphira congregated at the capital, renamed Illirea, to discuss the next steps.

Estheria had no desire to return to her people. Instead, she opted to continue her training and fulfill her and Valianas' dream of restoring the order that so many of her people died fighting for. Of course, Blodhgarm most likely had something to do with that picture as well. Even she turned red at the mention of an Elvin healer walking in on them during a very heated encounter between the two of them. He looks upon the memory fondly, and she reprimands him for it. They were an interesting couple, but they remained unhindered because of the elation of the end of the war.

The council had decided that the Dwarves would stay in the Beor Mountains, the elves wanted to stay in Du Weldonvarden. They had no desire to leave their beloved forests. Roran would rule the human population of Alagaesia and Orrin would rule his people underneath as was the system beforehand. The Urgals would live as they used to, however, if they harmed a man or if they were harmed by a man, they were all subjected to the same laws of justice across the lands. King Asthraxis was happy to return to his Southern Isles, never to be disturbed again. However, Eragon did ask permission to come once a year when the order of the Riders was reinstated for his elves to touch the dragon eggs and see if they hatch. Estheria proved that Water Elvin Riders were, in fact, possible.

The Empire sympathizers were won over with the laws of Alagaesia plastered in marble in the center of the market. They outlawed slavery, promoted equality among races, gender, and social classes. The economy was finally reopened between all cities leading to the quick progression of city-states. Villages were rebuilt and anyone wanting to return to their homes was able to with the means of rebuilding their houses provided by the treasury of the former Varden.

Schools were being built with record speed in towns, funded by the government under Roran's rule. But that was Eragon's least concern. There was a celebration in the capital. An official one. The towns across the land were painted and decorated. The Grand Hall of the capital was pressed with the lively music of victory. And that was where Eragon stood watching.

Saphira was already half drunk in mead and faelnirv. She said she was switching between the two so she does not tire of the drink. He laughed before catching himself swaying on the edge of a table. Roran and Katrina glided across the floor as Elaine watched their daughter for them. Orik and Hvedra were deep in conversation with Orrin, laughing about some nonsense or the other.

Roran had Nasuada's picture painted and it hung marvelously, nearly the size of the man himself, above the great hall. A monument was constructed of Nasuada next to the laws in the forum. Roran said it hung because he 'never wanted the people to forget what their leader sacrificed, what she stood for, and what she believed in.'

His eyes scanned the room even further. Blodhgarm and Estheria were close in each other's arms as they glided across the dance floor, oblivious to a very disgruntled King Asthraxis. But then again, who could blame the father of a daughter?

He was taken out of his thoughts as a delicate pair of arms encircled his waist. Clutching the familiar body to him, he leaned back against her, savoring the feel of her heated lips against the back of his neck. Gently twisting in his mate's arms, he turned to face her.

She nearly took his breath away. Her hair was half pinned up, half left down. But that was all he saw of her until she captured his lips with hers. Pulling him to the dance floor, she tucked herself underneath his chin as she had done all those months ago and relaxed against his muscular body. Her pinecone scent filled his nostrils until he truly thought he would be inebriated.

Eragon replayed the last days over in his head, wondering when he was so comfortable with peace around him.

_He, Saphira, and Arya left as soon as the battle had ended and Roran was crowned king to his father's tombstone. It was time, he decided, that he could face him. _

_Falling to his knees, he ran his hands over the inscription. _

'_like a father to me.' _

_He shook his head, changing the words with a mere thought. _

"_My father." It simply read instead. _

_A few tears fell to the ground as Saphira roared in honor. _

"_I succeeded, father. Like you believed that I would. I shall fulfill your dream, father." _

_Those were his last words before succumbing into tears. The relief that his fight was finally over hit him like rain pelting the ground. He was done. Those dreams he had, he could fulfill. _

_They launched themselves back into the air and returned within a day's flight. _

"Arya?"

"Hmmm?"

"I love you."

She smiled against his neck, kissing the taut skin briefly before closing her eyes again and savoring the feel of her mate against her.

In truth, she had hated the two weeks without him. As soon as she arrived in Ellesmera, she had regretted leaving him behind. Two weeks she pined for him, often making her way over to his treehouse during her free time. And when she had returned…she smiled at the memory.

When she had returned, he was waiting for her with the usual greeters of the council. But, unlike the duty-bound princess she was, she had kissed him in front of everyone. Even her mother scoffed a little at the uncharacteristic display. And even after that, she had shamelessly walked into her mother's accommodations and demanded that she and Eragon be left alone for a period of seventy-two hours. Of course, having no reply to her, the Queen was reduced to making rather stupid excuses as to why her daughter was not present.

She could not, obviously, say her daughter had locked herself in a room with her mate and repeatedly made love until every muscled in her body was thoroughly sore.

Arya, however, did not really care at the moment. She would regret it later, but not now. And perhaps, not even later. It was due to her, after all. She sacrificed seventy years of her life in a war she believed would never end. And after it did, days after the battle had ended, her time to celebrate in private was cut short by meeting here and there and soldiers and warriors to heal. If that was not enough, her mother claimed she had to return to Ellesmera to perform her duties as a princess, which was true, but not without its torture on her. She deserved it actually, three days without anyone disturbing her…them, in reality.

Once Alagaesia was restored to it previous splendor, there was only one component missing in their future…the Riders. Eragon returned to the forests and carefully opened up the knowledge of the eldunari. There were literally hundreds of them with ancient knowledge of the lessons and the layout. He tried in vain to find Saphira's namesake, but he could not. He did, however, find a blood red eldunari that could only belong to Morzan. Galbatorix forcefully took the eldunari even from his own Forsworn. In a rage at its presence, Saphira crushed it in her jaws.

The other dragons were willing to help with the Master Rider's dream. Some simply wanted to be destroyed, to which Eragon willingly obliged. It took him a few years, but Eragon had finally written down all the information he needed to rebuild Vroengard and restart the Riders. Glaedr-ebirthil was there every step of the way, guiding the Rider in the lesson plans and curriculum of Vroengard.

Finally…finally, his dream would be fulfilled.


	25. Chapter 50: Epilogue

Chapter 50: Epilogue _Seven hundred years later _

"Father! Father!"

A man with trimmed and perfected chocolate brown hair and cerulean eyes answered the call. He was wearing a casual dress of Elvin nobility. A pair of rather loose fitting felt pants and a very fine embroidered tunic that went nearly to his knees. A sapphire blue sword hung at his waist and a simple gold crown with the yawe symbol entwined with the aesthetic leaves of Du Weldonvarden sat on his head.

Turning back briefly to his previous engagement, he dismissed his charges.

"Fenrir, Thane, Maximus, Valrien, Esthemone, Keira, you have your duties and your assignments. I want you to only investigate the charges against that Elvin man and protect the citizens against any further attacks. Are we clear?"

A synchronized, "Yes, ebirthil." resounded in the immediate areas.

Thane was a human boy, flaming red hair and sky blue eyes. He hailed from Surda, born nearly fifty years back. Maximus had hatched for him there when he was not nine years of age. His family had sorely missed the boy, but they were glad for his education and his choosing. As if to match, Maximus was the same color as his Rider's hair, a rather reddish orange. A color that the deep purple hued Esthemone never lets him forget would 'pick him out like an apple among the oranges.' Esthemone's Rider was the fair blonde haired Kiera with another set of hazel eyes to contribute to her appeal. Kiera was the result of a union of a human Rider and an Elvin Rider. Of the three, she remained the most skilled in swordplay. After Arya and Eragon had mated, these couplings between immortal humans and elves had become more frequent once it was apparent the children suffered no ill effects. Of course, if the child was not a Rider, he or she could be subjected to a mortal life, yet even that was only a barrier for wanting children. And in truth, children of Riders were rare.

The last to mention were Fenrir and his dragon Valrien. Fenrir was the typical mysterious man, jet black hair and a pair of black eyes to match. But his eyes lacked the coldness of black, they were warm and comforting if seen in the right way. His features were sharp and pointed, almost to the point of being ruthless. His hard lines contributed to his foreboding sense and his aura exuded danger. But Eragon knew beneath his rough exterior, no doubt the cause of an abusive father and negligent step – mother who constantly beat him, he was a soft hearted boy who continued to make children little wooden birds that flew with the wind or a small flower to the little girls who were having a rough day. He rarely smiled, rarely let emotion show in his face. He was a master with words, and the most skilled magician among the pair. Valrien, his white dragon seemed to reflect that inner heart in a seemingly rough exterior. Of the three dragons here, only Valrien was calm and controlled. He was the nicest of the three as well, considering all Esthemone and Maximus did was fight and poke fun at each other. It even grew old to their own Riders, much less to others. They had recently engaged in another one of their arguments, much to their Riders dismay. Kiera spared a glance at Fenrir. Their master noticed that he too, was staring after her like he would his fancy, but Fenrir quickly masked his intentions like the master he was. She seemed to be fairly disappointed with the encounter, but it was not the master Rider's place to interfere.

A gust of wind swept in the elder Rider's direction as they three took off for their posts. A small smile graced his features as he watched their ascending bodies become mere specks in the air.

"Father!"

His smile grew wider as the small child drew closer and closer. He picked up his daughter of two years, resting her on his well developed arms and started walking back towards Tialdari Hall. Her mother was slowly making her way towards them, a glint of humor in her eyes. She was wearing a tunic of his. A habit that never died. She pinned the cloth in places as to give her shape instead of drowning herself in it. The fragrance of pinecones wafted through the air as the man, once again, found himself intoxicated by her scent. They met halfway before the child had found something else that peaked her interest. Her parents watched as she bounded away in the direction of an unsuspecting little sparrow taking refuge in little tree nearby.

Feeling an arm curve around her back, she turned around only moments before she was swept into a long, languid kiss her mate was so good at. Her hands immediately sought their prize in his hair, but she could no longer curve the long locks of hair around her fingers. Her mate had cut it for a more 'professional presentation' but, alas, how she missed his longer hair.

A sigh in contentment broke them apart.

"I love you, Arya."

She smiled at how her heart fluttered at those words even years later, before answering her customary answer of how she loved him as well and nudging his nose playfully with hers as she always did.

"She looks just like you, my Queen."

"But she has your eyes."

And that she had. The daughter of the king and queen of elves, Eragon and Arya, had raven black hair like her mother and her father's natural brown eyes before he was changed into a Rider. Her features were just as striking as her mother's but her heart was as naïve and kind as her father's.

"Mother, there are some Dwarven delegates waiting for you both in the hall."

The voice that came next was of their son and heir to the throne. He had inherited his father's chocolate brown hair and his mother's emerald eyes. He stood at his father's height, a man of twenty five years himself, and a Rider as well. He was far more like his mother though, sharing her angled and sharpened features while sharing his father's build.

"Evandar, look after your sister while we are away."

"Yes, father," came the swift reply.

The King and Queen made their way to Tialdari Hall, but not before catching the mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Oh and Evandar…" his inwardly groaned at his mother's knowing tone, "Do not let your sister pull all the flowers in the garden again."

"But mother," his voice was, once again, filled with mischief, "I was the one who did that. Does that mean _I_ can do it again?"

A raised eyebrow on his mother's part silenced him on the matter. He called his forest green dragon to him, Könungr. The story of his naming was a comical one. Lord Fiolr had spitefully called his father Könungr when they had come to visit him in order to see his progress on his sentence, and during one of his many imitations of lords he found annoying, he had said the word Könungr, and that was that. That green dragon stuck with it. Even he thought it was a little egotistical, but that green dragon would not be called by anything else, and to match, he had the stubbornness of one too. Well, that and it was the offspring of Saphira and Valianas. Her stubbornness must have passed on to him. They were there for the month, a break for the Blood-Oath Celebration granted by the Council of Elder Riders at Vroengard. As the heir to the throne, Evandar had to prepare beforehand, and was given a leave. Of course, it did not hurt that his father, Eragon, not only rebuilt Vroengard after the Fall, but headed it for a full six and a half centuries before being crowned King of the Elves.

Nevertheless, Evandar went after his sister Selena in hopes of catching her before she did something rather stupid. He, on the other hand, was apparently more like his mother, carefully planning his pranks and never being caught. He spared one last glance at his parents before finding his sister.

Eragon chuckled to himself before falling into an easy grin.

"What is it, iet Shurtugal?"

Even after all these years, they still fondly called each other by the names they gave each other during the war. Even though Arya was Queen, and had been for the past fifty of so years, she was still his princess and he would still pamper her like one. The love never died between them.

"He takes after you, you know."

Arya smiled knowingly, she was a troublesome child with the free reigns her father gave her. But damn it all, he was her son, and that did not go for nothing. She had given him free reigns when he was growing up as well. Islanzadi often made an offhand comment that he was growing unruly, but she did nothing but encourage his mischief by rewarding him with lavish gifts every time he visited her in her forest dwelling after she had resigned from being Queen. Although, Eragon strongly suspected she was lenient because he was named after Arya's father.

After Estheria was trained and Vroengard was rebuilt, Saphira and Valianas finally fell deeply in love and mated. They still continued to have children every decade or so, but since there was no need to prolong their race of the Riders any longer, most of their eggs were wild dragons. Könungr was the only exception in a full century. Currently, Saphira and Valianas were flying across Crags and swimming in the large fresh water lake there. Estheria and Blodhgarm were taking a well deserved break in Blodhgarm's home where they were staying for the Blood – Oath Celebration. Estheria became a master of meditation techniques and expansion and taught that subject proficiently. She was continued to be the favorite teacher of the young Riders with her sweet and loving personality. Blodhgarm taught magic and spell weaving at Vroengard. He fell in love with teaching so much that he expressed his desire to continue as a teacher even though he would never be a Rider. Eragon requested Vanir to teach swordplay and with the abundance of new disciples to shape up, he wanted to stay as well. He, however, continued to be the most hated of the teachers with his constant insults at incompetence and hard training sessions. The Master Rider himself taught literature and poetry to the elder students. Most who expressed desires to continue in that field had talked with him personally on pursuing a path in the arts. He had stationed them in peaceful and scenic areas of Alagaesia so they could fulfill their duties as a Rider and have their inspiration.

Arya had remained the Elvin ambassador and delegate during these times, However, she was quickly appalled at the lack of knowledge the Riders had included in the department of the entire Alagaesian history and culture of all the races and demanded Eragon include it in his curriculum. And once Eragon could not find a teacher for it, she took the job stating she did not want any lesser knowledgeable one teaching such a delicate subject. She did state, of course, that if one more knowledgeable came along, she would gladly hand over the position. That day, however, never came. Arya, instead, chose an old student of hers who had long since left Vroengard to look over Marna to come back and teach as she would no longer be able to. Asthon, the student, was more than willing to come back and fulfill his teacher's request.

And now, now they had both decided it was time to fulfill the next duty of their lives, they left Vroengard in the hands of very capable elder Riders, Estheria included, and became the revered King and Queen of the Forest Elves. They ruled for a peaceful fifty years so far, during which they had two children: the naughty Evandar and the innocent Selena.

There were still times when one of them broke up in a sweat because of a nightmare of the war or even when she ran her hands over the scars that damned black sword put on him or even took the creased and refolded paper on which her mate wrote that poem before they were separated and read it once again. Nay…they never forgot the war, it was too much a part of them to ever be truly forgotten. But they did not need to. They did not need to when a little shift would immediately give them the comfort of their companion's arms around them.

Later that day, they found themselves curled up in an especially large easy chair in front of their fireplace. The fairth of Murtagh and Thorn was hung above the fireplace in all its majesty, catching the light the fire trickled into the room. It was not cold outside, but they still huddled together for warmth. A delicate hand ran over the emerald pendant that still hung faithfully around her neck. The queen had tilted her face upward, angling her lips so she could easily find her mate's. He placed chaste kisses on her lips, murmuring his usual poetic praises against them. It was during these times when no one bothered them.

_Knock_

_Knock_

_Knock_

Well…perhaps not no one.

"Come in!"

They made no motion to move from their current position, they knew who it was opening the doors to their private chambers this late in the night.

"Mother!" A little girl ran up and bounded in her arms before snuggling up close against her. The Queen lay back down against the strong body of her mate, savoring the feeling of his strong arms around her and their daughter. The last footsteps heard were those of her son before he nearly fell down into the chase next to them, his eyes watching them closely with a hint of a smile.

"What, son, would you like to sit on my lap too?"

He gave his father a large grin before standing up a little too quickly.

"Well, if you insist, father, who am I to disobey?"

And before the elder man could protest, his son slid into easy chair next to his small-framed mother and laughed at his father's mortified expression.

"I truly appreciate the love, Evandar," Eragon's voice was strained a little, "But you are not twelve any longer."

He laughed harder before getting himself and pouring himself his favorite tea that his mother always made for him in case he walked in and wanted a cup of it. He drained it quickly before grabbing a blanket and haphazardly throwing it over himself and promptly falling asleep. Evandar had an odd habit of drinking tea before bed. Apparently, it put him to sleep. It started at the age of fifteen. He was home for a break of a few weeks here and there, and he had tried to get into the kitchen to make a little tea, but he could not find where his mother had hidden it. So, he quietly crept into his parent's room, who watched him and his unusual habit every night without his knowing, made a cup of tea of his favorite and went back to bed. The next night, the tea was already made for him and so he took a cup as silently as he could, kissed his mother goodnight and thanked her, and slept quite peacefully that night.

Arya lifted herself out of bed and fixed the blanket on her beloved son before placing a tender kiss on his forehead. Her mate had left the room and taken Selena to her bedchamber as she had also fallen fast asleep. Her daughter was an interesting one. The princess could only fall asleep on her own bed or in her parents' arms, and on top of that, she needed a room far up in the tower in order to fall asleep well. Her father had loved that she was an innocent little daddy's girl, but Arya knew better and so did her father. Once he found the long group of sturdy vines that had formed by accidental magic on her part all the way up her tower large enough for her hands to grasp on well and climb down. That child was fearless. Eragon was so appalled at his daughter's daring and unable to deny his little girl anything, he hand built a sturdy oak staircase all the way up the tower so she would be safe. He did not want to even risk magic saying, 'it is unpredictable' even though he was merely being paranoid.

Arya removed the dull lighting provided by the candles and slid into bed, waiting for the warmth of her mate to lean against. It came quickly after her thoughts along with a chaste kiss on her lips, surrounding her as she rested her cheek lightly on his chest.

The dreams of their ancestors were fulfilled. They no longer ran on someone else's agenda, they no longer made another's dream theirs. Nay, this Rider and princess couple had finally began living their dream. A loving family living in an era of peace. Their dreams were finally complete.

(A/N) This is the end of the story. I thank everybody who reviewed and I really hope you enjoyed it.


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